


we've made it this far, kid

by everythingislove (straykid)



Series: we've made it this far, kid [1]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Football Coach!Even, Kid Fic, Uncle!Isak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-01-06 09:04:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12208089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straykid/pseuds/everythingislove
Summary: The kollektiv had been Jonas' idea. It was originally part of their plan to conquer the world as they went off to university together—the ultimate bachelor pad with a spare bedroom for hook-ups and a surplus supply of condoms available at any time. It took the death of Isak’s sister to change all of that.Their spare room was converted into a football paradise, every door and cupboard childproofed and any alcohol securely locked away, and in moved five-year-old Felix Valtersen. With four equally irresponsible and clueless uncles looking after him, he's bound to turn out okay... right?Or: the one where Isak is just trying to raise his nephew as best he can with the help of his best friends. He doesn't expect to fall for Felix's gorgeous football coach along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> firstly, i want to say a massive thank you to josie—without her, this fic would not be happening. she's helped me come up with ideas, edit, and has supported/helped me turn our (many) thoughts into an original story. she's absolutely amazing!
> 
> this story has been especially fun to write because it focuses on isak and even's sprouting relationship, but also highlights isak's friendship with the boy squad. plus, felix is quite possibly the cutest kid ever. i hope you all enjoy!

"Uncle Isak?"

There's a small finger jabbing at Isak's cheek. Instinctively, he turns away from the harsh touch, letting out a quiet grunt. "Uncle Isak isn't here right now," he mumbles, "please come back in an hour."

The poking persists.

Isak considers his options. He could just ignore his nephew and hope that he'll eventually grow bored or tire himself out again, but that's never worked in the past. He could pull the covers over his head and hide, but Felix will crawl right under them with him. That leaves him with one reasonable choice: wake up and deal with it.

He momentarily clings to his state of half-sleep, then carefully blinks his eyes open. He nearly screams at the sight waiting for him.

Felix's face is less than an inch away from Isak's, and his eyes are wide and unblinking as they stare at him.

" _Fy faen_ , Felix!" Isak yelps, his heart racing. "What are you doing?"

"I want pancakes." Felix says with a satisfied grin, leaning back.

"And I want a full night of sleep." He groans, reaching up to rub his bleary eyes. "What time is it?"

"I don't know." Felix shrugs. 

He grunts as the small boy seats himself on his chest, letting out a breath. "Is the sun up, at least?"

Felix ponders the question for a moment, then finally shakes his head. "I like the moon better anyways." He says.

"You—" Isak shuts his eyes, his tired mind protesting the lecture on the tip of his tongue. There's no point anyways; Felix always does what Felix wants. "Never mind."

"I'm going to go the moon one day." Felix rolls off of Isak, squirming around on the bed to get comfortable. "I'll be super old like you when that happens."

"Old?" Isak cracks one eye open, unable to hide his offended expression. "I'm not old, I'm only nineteen!"

"Nineteen?" Felix asks, giggling. "You're even older than I thought."

"Wow. Thanks." Isak mutters grumpily, allowing him to squirm into his side nonetheless. He wraps an arm around his tiny form, rubbing his arm gently to try and calm him down some. "Is there any chance you'll fall back asleep if we cuddle?"

"No." Felix says solemnly.  _Of course not._

With his unoccupied arm, Isak reaches toward his nightstand, blindly feeling for his phone. He makes a soft noise of triumph when he finally grabs it, but that brief victory fades when he realizes it's only four o'clock in the morning. He sighs, shutting his eyes and sinking back against his bed.

"Pancakes?" Felix tries, resuming the poking from before. 

"I'm almost certain I'm not supposed to reward you for waking me in the middle of the night." Isak yawns, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position nonetheless. From experience, he knows that it's easier to cave in to Felix now. They'll both have a good afternoon nap, at the very least. 

"But I'm cute, Uncle Issy." Felix juts his bottom lip out into his signature pout. 

"You got that from me, kid." Isak tells him, standing up. "Come on. We'll go make your pancakes and watch some television." 

"Cartoons?" Felix asks hopefully. "I don't like your shows, they're boring."

"They're educational," Isak corrects, "and that's good for you. Otherwise your brain will turn into goo before you get through grade school."

Felix looks bewildered at that, no doubt imagining a melted brain. Then he shakes his head, scrambles to stand up on the bed, and holds his arms out expectantly.

"You want me to carry you, too?" He crosses his arms. "You're pushing it."

"I'm your favorite nephew." Felix reasons.

"You're my only nephew." Isak chuckles, stepping closer. He's an endearing little human, no doubt.

Felix doesn't waste a moment before jumping into his arms, the force so unexpected that he stumbles back a few steps. He nuzzles into his neck as Isak catches his balance, his little hands fisted into the back of Isak's shirt. 

"We can't make this a habit, alright? This is a one-time thing." Isak warns, smoothing a hand down his back as he carries him toward the kitchen. 

"Okay." Felix hesitates. "But what if I'm really, really hungry?"

"Then you can dream yourself a pizza and wait until the sun rises." Isak says, adjusting him so that he's settled higher on his hip. He pretends he doesn't notice that Felix is getting too big to carry around. 

"What if I don't want pizza?"

Isak gives him The Look™.

"Okay, I'll dream myself some chicken nuggets instead." Felix says quickly, realizing he's testing his luck. He smiles sheepishly, then presses his cheek against Isak's shoulder.

"Good idea." Isak nods, setting him on the counter once they reach the kitchen. He searches through his cabinets until he finds the box of pancake mix, and the various other ingredients they'll need. "We need to be quiet so that we don't wake your uncles up."

The kollektiv had been Jonas's idea. It was originally part of their plan to conquer the world as they went off to University together. They were going to make it the ultimate bachelor pad, with a spare bedroom for hook-ups and a surplus supply of condoms available at any time.

Then Isak got a call letting him know that his sister was dead and his nephew was officially an orphan, and everything went to shit. The boys still insisted he stay ( _"Man, I don't want to find another roommate. Can't the kid move in?"_ ) and offered help in whatever way they could. Somewhere along the way, they fell just as in love with Felix as him.

"I'll be quiet." Felix swings his legs as he watches him, his feet banging against the bottom cupboard each time in spite of his words. "Issy," he starts suddenly, "do you miss my mamma sometimes?"

Isak freezes, caught off guard by the question. "I—" he clears his throat. "I do. Do you?" He asks cautiously.

He knows that Felix is bound to ask questions, but this is still foreign territory. He's not a child psychologist—he doesn't know how much he should answer, or rather, how to avoid permanently fucking him up.  He doesn't know shit about children in general, frankly.

Felix hums. "I miss her cuddles." He points toward the bowl. "Can I stir, please?"

Isak carefully brings the bowl over, holding it steady so that nothing spills. "Is that why you couldn't sleep tonight?" He presses. "Were you missing mamma?"

Felix doesn't respond.

"It's fine if you were—or do right now." He adds quickly. "Your mamma was a very special person."

In spite of his (extremely) rough relationship with his sister growing up, Isak always loved her. She had mostly good intentions, even if she had a bad habit of making all the wrong choices. He would never let Felix know about that side of his mother, though; he'd made that promise to himself the day he received guardianship of him.

"I don't remember her a lot." Felix glances up at him warily. "I miss remembering her."

"You know what the good news is?" Isak taps two fingers softly against his chest, right over his heart. "Mamma is always right there with you. Even if you don't remember her, she loves you more than anyone else."

"More than you?" Felix seems shocked.

"More than me." Isak smiles wryly. 

Felix drops the whisk into the bowl, wrapping his arms around Isak's neck. "I love you the most." 

"I love you too." Isak drops a kiss to his temple, then gestures toward the batter. "We have some pancakes that need to be made, though."

"Can we bring them to Uncle Jonas? And Uncle Mags? And Uncle Mahdi?" Felix perks up.

Isak spares a look toward the clock. It's already four forty-five, and by the time they've finished, it'll be five. He nods, "We can bring them some breakfast in bed, but don't be surprised if Uncle Jonas is a big grump when he first wakes up."

Felix fixes him with a serious expression. "No one is more grumpy than you."

-

As it turns out, Isak isn't very good at make pancakes. 

It takes him well over half an hour to finally make one that's not raw or burned, and by then they're out of batter. So—with Felix's stomach growling loudly to remind him of his failure—he makes yet another batch of batter.

When there are finally five servings worth of pancakes, it's nearly half past five and the sun is starting to rise. 

"This is why I leave the cooking to Uncle Jonas or Uncle Mahdi." Isak tells Felix, rummaging through the takeout boxes in their fridge for the syrup. "Next time, wake one of them if you need food."

"You told me I shouldn't wake up anyone." Felix reminds, eagerly taking the bottle. He pours a copious amount of the sugary substance onto his plate, and Isak cringes imagining his next dentist appointment.

"Right." He says, rubbing a hand over his face. "Don't wake up anyone again."

"Do I smell pancakes?" Magnus calls as he wanders downstairs, a wide grin on his face. He's much too cheery for such an early hour.

"Why are you awake?" Isak asks, at the same time Felix says, "We made some for you too, Uncle Mags!"

Magnus gives Isak an odd look, gesturing to Felix. "He has his first football game today, and we need to run to the athletic store to get him fitted with new cleats. His coach said his are too small."

"What?"

"Isn't that why you're awake?" Magnus asks. "We need to leave by seven. Jonas and Mahdi should be down in a few minutes."

"Oh yeah!" Felix sets his fork down, licking some of the syrup from his lips. "My coach says we're the bestest team and that we're going to win for sure."

"I thought they were only practicing for the first month?" Isak is too tired for this. 

"It's already been a month. We took him to his practices since you had to work in the evenings." Magnus says. "Now we all go to the game."

"The game that no one remembered to tell me about in advance?" Isak groans, just as Jonas walks into the kitchen too.

"Man, chill out." Jonas rolls his eyes, ruffling up Felix's hair. "We're all awake, you made breakfast, and now he just needs to get dressed. We'll run to the store, get him new cleats, and head right to the field. It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal!" Isak snaps, but he feels like an idiot for it when everyone stares at him blankly. "Well—maybe not a big deal, but it's still a thing." He finishes lamely.

"Issy is tired because we woke up early," Felix whispers, as if Isak isn't standing two feet away from him. He gives them all a knowing look, then resumes stuffing his mouth full of breakfast.

" _We_  did not wake up early.  _You_  woke up early and demanded pancakes." Isak grumbles. "Which I haven't gotten a 'thank you' for yet, by the way."

"Thank you." Felix chimes, flashing him a charming smile. It's no doubt the reason his teachers all love him, even though Isak knows first hand what a little terror he can be.

"You're welcome." Isak nods toward his nearly empty plate. "Once you're done, go wash your hands so you don't get all of your clothes sticky."

"Okay."

"And remember to brush your teeth," Jonas says, "no one will want to pass to you if you have smelly breath."

Felix nods, his mouth full again, and gives Jonas a thumbs up.

"I have my camera!" Mahdi announces, poking his head through the doorway. He holds up the camera around his neck, winking. "We're going to have plenty of material to show any of his potential future partners."

"If we can make it there on time." Isak says, pushing himself away from the counter. Getting Felix to cooperate while getting him dressed and ready is an event, to say the least."Felix, finish eating and come upstairs."

"Do you need help, or should we eat?" Jonas asks.

Isak doesn't deserve his friends. 

"I can get him dressed, you guys enjoy the pancakes." He assures. 

"You should wear something nice." Mahdi says casually. "Maybe that navy sweater that makes your eyes pop?"

"It's a children's football game, not a date with the man of my dreams." Isak deadpans, expression unamused. "I think a sweatshirt will be fine."

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jonas snickering—try as he might to smother it with the back of his hand. "What's so funny?" He asks.

"Nothing." Jonas shrugs, waving his fork through the air. "I think it would be for the best that you dress up, though."

"To impress all of the other parents there?" Isak rolls his eyes, starting to make his way upstairs again.

He doesn't hear the added, "Or a certain coach."

-

"We're only five minutes late, would you calm down?" Jonas asks, nearly jogging to match Isak's pace. 

"We wouldn't have been late at all if someone hadn't decided they needed a coffee from that shop on the other side of town." Isak gives Magnus a pointed look. 

"I need to be awake to watch his first game, and that's the only place I like!" Magnus defends from a few steps back, earning giggles from Felix, who was currently sat on his shoulders.

"Well he won't even be playing if we don't make it to the field." Isak huffs out a breath, adjusting the snapback on his head.  "I don't want him to be hated because we held up the game."

"We're not holding up anything, christ. It's a recreational league, not the fucking FIFA World Cup." Jonas says, exasperated. 

"Besides," Mahdi chimes from his other side, "Even isn't like that."

Isak huffs out a soft breath, but can't hold off his curiosity. "Who's Even?"

As if on cue, a tall man standing near the sidelines waves at them. He's actually beaming in their direction, and he looks some sort of supermodel as he does. It's not fair that a person can be that attractive and make it seem so effortless.

"Coach!" Felix squeals. "Uncle Mags, put me down!"

Isak reluctantly pulls his eyes away from the gorgeous man—who in all likelihood was trying to get his little brother or sister's attention—scanning the field for a balding, heavyset, fifty-something year old man with a clipboard and whistle.

Then Magnus sets Felix down, and the boy goes running right toward Mr. Supermodel Smile.

"That's Even." Jonas breaks through his thoughts, clasping him on the shoulder. "He's been waiting to meet you. Apparently Felix talks all about you during his practices."

"Shit." Isak looks down at the old sweatshirt and worn jeans he'd opted for and cringes. When he looks back toward the boys, and they're all watching him with a knowing smirk. As much as he loves them, they can be completely infuriating sometimes.

"Good luck. We're going to go and get our seats." Jonas winks, walking off with the boys by his side.

He swallows, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. He'll give them an earful later for leaving him like this, but right now, he has to actively try to not make a completely fool out of himself. 

His feet start to move, and he straightens his shoulders as he walks. He can act like a mature, confident adult for what will probably be a thirty second conversation. 

But. It's just that his eyes areblue. He's always had a special place in his heart for blue eyes. And the shirt that he's wearing (light blue, with COACH EVEN printed in bold font over the breast) compliments them too well. He feels physically breathless, and his lips are parted like he's actually going to start  _drooling_  or something equally mortifying, and—

"Issy! This is my coach!" Felix comes rushing over, taking his hand to finish dragging him closer. "He's the best at playing the Keep Up game!"

"Oh?" Isak manages, glancing between Felix and Even. "That's super cool." He adds, but his nerves keep him from actually sounding enthusiastic.

"It's really hard beating out all of those five year olds for that title." Even says, laughing softly. He holds his hand out, "I'm Even, and I'm the light blue team coach. Our team name is a work in progress."

His voice somehow manages to encompass everything good in the world. It's a sound that Isak could easily listen to on loop for the rest of his life and never get tired of it. Or maybe he's just that desperate.

"I'm Isak." He says, cheeks burning as he takes his hand. "I'm, uh—I mean, Felix is—" His eyes move down to where Felix had been only moments before, but he's already run off to join his teammates.

"A fantastic kid." Even says, smiling assuringly. "Really. He's one of the most well-behaved members of the team."

"He is?" Isak asks dumbly.

"He is." Even confirms. "Very talented, too."

"Well, I'm sure that's all thanks to his coach." Isak blurts. He wants to runaway as soon as the words are out, because he's so awkward and hates that such a handsome man is being exposed to it.

"Cute." Even says, and is that a trace of fondness in his voice or is Isak really that sleep deprived?

Felix rushes over, nearly crashing into Isak's legs when his cleat gets caught in a patch of grass. He mindlessly kicks the dirt away as he says, "Issy, you have to go and sit down so we can play." He tugs at his sleeve impatiently. "You can be a chatterbox with Coach Even after the game."

"I'm going in a second. You keep running your drills." Isak nudges him softly, and Felix luckily takes the hint and scatters back onto the field. He's feeling mortified but trying to play it cool when he meets Even's gaze. "I guess I'll talk with you later?"

"I'm looking forward to it." Even says, and he seems to mean it. Maybe. Or maybe that's what he says to every annoying parent who makes him uncomfortable with awful sort-of-flirting.

"Great." Isak coughs into the crook of his arm awkwardly.

As he turns away, he notices Even's eyes trail down to his ass. The slightly taller man stares for solid few seconds, before smirking and walking off toward the kids.

Isak's heart soars.

It soars, that is, until he makes his way over to the boys and Magnus asks, "Bro, why the fuck do you have a Buzz Lightyear sticker on your ass?"

He blinks, the dread immediately settling in. Sure enough, when he looks over his shoulder, there's a familiar character settled on the left back pocket of his jeans. It's not small, either—it takes up almost the entire square of denim. Felix must have stuck it there when he was frantically trying to get them out the door earlier.

"We're never buying Felix another sticker. Never." Isak slumps into the chair, pressing his hands over his face. "Could no one have warned me earlier?"

"I don't make a habit of looking at your ass." Jonas defends.

"But Even sure does." Mahdi adds with a snort. "He couldn't have made that any more obvious."

_"Because I had Buzz Lightyear on my ass!"_

"He would have been staring regardless, don't be so dramatic. He was practically gawking at you for your entire conversation." Jonas says, rummaging through their bag for a drink. He offers it out to Isak, "You want one?"

Isak slowly pulls his hands away from his eyes and gives him an incredulous look. "It's barely nine o'clock in the morning and you're drinking beer?"

"It's a football game."

"A children's football game!"

"Football is football." Jonas shrugs, popping the cap off. "You need to relax, you're so tense."

"It's been a long morning." Isak says dryly.

"Which is why you should have gotten yourself a coffee." Magnus says smugly, taking a long gulp of his drink. Almost immediately his eyes widen and he stick his tongue out, frantically waving a hand in front of his mouth. "Hot! Holy shit, that's hot!"

Isak can't resist laughing with Jonas and Mahdi at the expense of their friend. At least he's not the only one having a bad morning now.

"Fuck, I don't think I have tastebuds anymore." Magnus's voice is somewhat distorted as he talks with the tip of his tongue pinched between his thumb and forefinger. 

"You won't suddenly not have tastebuds. You might have killed them, but they'll grow back quickly." Isak can't resist correcting him like the science nerd that he is. He narrows his eyes toward center field where the kids are gathered, trying to pick out his nephew. "Can you tell which one Felix is?"

"He's the one with his hands on his hips, looking ready to kick some ass." Jonas smirks against the rim of the bottle in his hand. 

"He's five." Isak reminds. "It's all about making friends at this age; or that's what it said in that one book, anyways."

"Making friends and kicking their asses, sure." Jonas shrugs.

"You're going to teach him all sorts of bad ideals about sportsmanship." Isak stuffs his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt to shield them from the cold.

"Fuck off, I'm preparing him for life."

 "He was asking about Lea while we were making pancakes earlier." Isak says just as the whistle for the start of the game goes off. 

"Did you bring her up?" Mahdi asks without lowering the camera. He's occupied with trying to take pictures of Felix, but he's half-listening.

"No. He did." Isak shrugs. "I didn't really know what to say, so I said all of the usual things: she's always with you, she loved you more than anyone... the basics."

"Maybe he's heard enough of the basics?" 

"Maybe." Isak pulls his hand out to scratch his jaw mindlessly. "I think he's curious. He doesn't remember much about her, and he doesn't like that."

"Well—does that fucking ref have eyes? That was a trip!" Jonas starts off at normal volume, but is shouting by the end. 

The other parents give them harsh looks, and Isak slumps back in his seat. He stares back at them with a helpless (but unapologetic) look of his own. He's already embarrassed himself enough today.

"Children's. Game." He emphasizes each word pointedly. 

"Just sit there and look pretty while you act like you're not staring at Coach Even." Jonas grumbles under his breath, and takes a drink from his beer.

-

Watching five year olds play football is a bit like watching a bunch of puppies running around on an ice rink. There's no real focus from the majority of them, someone falls every other minute, and there's noises of all varieties throughout the game. He's also pretty sure a kid peed on one of the goals at one point. 

But while the game itself left much to be desired, Isak enjoyed watching Felix play. He really is skilled for his age, already dribbling with control when he gets the ball. Plus, he put up three goals for his team. He can't deny the pride that fills his chest just thinking about it.

He grins when he notices Felix running toward them with a juice box in one hand and a package of cookies in the other. His shin guards have twisted around and his shirt has grass stains all over it, but he doesn't seem the least bit bothered.

"You did a great job today." Isak says, holding out his arms for a hug. "You were the best one out there for sure." He adds in a whisper.

"I had so much fun! Did you see me dribble? And when I scored, did you see?" Felix wraps one arm around him for just a second, then pulls away to take a long sip of his juice. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he hasn't been running around for an hour. Isak will never understand where he gets his energy from.

"I saw." Isak uses his thumb to wipe some cookie crumbs from the corner of the little boy's mouth. "It was awesome, you were awesome, kiddo."

"Those refs couldn't see what was right in front of them though." Jonas scoffs, tilting his beer bottle in their general direction. "Next time a kid pushes you and there's no call, you push them back."

"No, you can't." Isak corrects, glaring at Jonas. "You just—forgive them. Forgiveness is best."

"He can't let himself be bullied!"

"The kid didn't even mean to push him! How many times do I have to remind you this is for  _children_ —"

"Hi Coach!" Felix interrupts.

Isak whirls around, and sure enough, Even is standing right there, watching the entire exchange. Apparently the universe decided that he hasn't yet suffered enough for one day.

"Hi buddy." Even smiles kindly. "I wanted to tell you that you did a great job today."

"Issy says that I played the best." Felix says proudly.

Isak blinks, his face and neck burning when Even's gaze turns to him. "Well, I did say that." He relents, "But I'm biased. Everyone played fantastic. I don't trash talk children's football skills."

"I didn't think that you did." Even chuckles, moving closer. "Some of these parents swear their kid is going to be the next David Beckham, and they make sure everyone knows it."

Isak is suddenly overly-aware of the fact that he's somehow sweating despite the freezing weather, never took the Buzz Lightyear sticker off of his ass, and didn't bother to do his hair this morning. He's a certified hot mess.

He laughs, but it sounds completely fake. The boys are staring at him as if he's some sort of circus show while Even studies him closely. "I don't know about Beckham. Not that I don't believe in Felix, I do." He stumbles over his words. "It's early to be making statements like that though. Plus, statistically speaking, it's not very probable that children in a league like this will become—"

"What Isak is trying to say," Mahdi—bless his soul—cuts in, "is that he doesn't want to force Felix to do anything before he can decide for himself."

"I think that's really admirable." Even licks his bottom lip discreetly. It's a conscious effort on Isak's part not to get turned on. "Like I told you earlier, Felix is such a wonderful boy. He's lucky to have an equally wonderful father."

And—what?

"What?" Isak blurts.

Even tilts his head slightly, his brows furrowing. "I'm sorry if I crossed a line. He just speaks so highly of you."

Isak turns to the boys for support, but finds their retreating backs heading toward the car. Felix is with them. They're all traitors. He moves his gaze back to Even, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I think there's a little confusion here."

He wants to explain, but then a little girl from the team is running over and taking Even by the hand, insisting they take a photo together. Even throws an apologetic look over his shoulder, and mouths 'later.'

When he gets into the front seat of the car, Jonas has this expectant look on his face. "Did you get a date with him?"

Isak shakes his head mutely.

"Do you have a different arrangement in place?" Mahdi asks, wiggling his brows suggestively.

Isak drops his head down so that his forehead rests against the dashboard. "No. I don't think there's going to be any of that."

"Why not?"

"Apart from the fact that I made a complete fool out of myself?" He glances back at Felix, who is preoccupied watching some show on his tablet. "He thinks he's mine."

"He thinks you're old enough for that? You have a baby face. He should assume he's your younger brother." Magnus says, starting the car.

"Well, he doesn't." Isak tries not to sound like he's pouting.

"Didn't you explain the situation to him?" Jonas asks.

"I didn't have the chance." Isak sighs. 

"That's all you have to do then, man. Felix has another game next weekend." Mahdi reminds, fiddling around on his camera. Finally, he pulls up the picture he wants, and passes the device up to Isak. "Here's a little motivation."

It's a picture of Even, of course. He's watching the game with concentrated eyes, but there's a smile lighting up his face. The sun seems to be hitting his face just right, highlighting his sculpted jaw and cheekbones. There's a loose strand of hair on his forehead that the wind has blown out of place, and it only makes him look that much more perfect.

"There's really a game next weekend?" He finds himself murmuring. Then he shifts in his seat, feigning disinterest as he adds, "For Felix's sake. This was good for him."

"There's a game every weekend for the next few months." Mahdi says. Isak doesn't even have to look to know that he's smirking—he can hear it in his voice. "You don't have to act like that's the only reason you're wondering."

"It  _is_  the only reason I'm wondering." Isak defends. "He's not even my type."

"Sure man, whatever you say." Mahdi chuckles.

"Is it suddenly ridiculous that I want to see my nephew play football? Why does no one believe me?" Isak should really shut up. 

"Maybe because you were acting like a fucking grump until you got a good look at his face?" Jonas says. "Then you turned into a big softie the way you do when you get a crush."

"I don't have a crush." Isak says firmly. "I'm nineteen, I don't get crushes."

"Fine. You have a massive boner for him, then. Better?" 

Felix's head snaps up from his tablet, suddenly interested in the conversation. "What's a boner?" He asks innocently.

"It's a naughty word that you're not allowed to use." Isak says quickly.

"But Uncle Jonas is laughing, and that means it's a funny word. You said I could use funny words like poop and fart." Felix pouts.

"It's not a funny word, Uncle Jonas is just an idiot." Isak sends all three of his snickering friends a heated stare. "Don't use that word. Okay?"

"Okay. I'll never ever use the word boner." Felix says grimly.

"Felix." Isak snaps.

"I was just telling you!"

Isak bangs his head back against the headrest, shutting his eyes. 

"Did I break Uncle Isak?" He can hear Felix ask.

"No," Mahdi replies, sounding all too amused. "He's just a little lovesick."

Did he say he loved his friends? He doesn't. They're the worst.

He tries to tell himself that his excitement for next Saturday is because he wants to see Felix play again. He's proud of his nephew and wants him to get exercise, make friends, and have fun. That's all. It definitely has nothing to do with his gorgeous coach.

He looks back down at the picture still illuminating the small camera screen and knows he's lying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the amazing response to chapter one! i really appreciate all the love :) a lot of you were wondering when/if a certain someone would make an appearance... ask and you shall receive!

 

 

> _To Mr. Isak Valtersen,_
> 
> _This letter serves to provide you with the information that you requested regarding the potential adoption of Felix Valtersen. You are currently the legal guardian of the minor, and therefore are responsible for his care; however, guardianship can be revoked at any time if a.) the guardian violates the Norwegian law b.) a family member or any other person applies to adopt the child and is deemed fitting or c.) the court ordered social worker believes the child is in danger, being abused, and/or is living in unsuitable conditions._
> 
> _To apply for adoption, you must abide by each section of The Adoption Act. You are not currently eligible to petition to adopt, as you have not yet reached 20 years of age. When you are eligible, please review each section of the terms carefully, as your application will be discarded should it not follow standards._
> 
> _We advise that you contact a lawyer who can further guide you and be of assistance should you have any questions or concerns._
> 
> _Kind regards,_
> 
> _Selma Karlsen_
> 
> _Oslo District Court_

-

"That's their way of telling me to fuck off, isn't it?" Isak asks Mahdi, his face buried into his palms. "I don't stand a chance."

"They're not telling you to fuck off," Mahdi says, "they're just telling you to fuck off temporarily. Until you're twenty."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Isak lifts his head, gesturing toward the letter in Mahdi's hands. "They don't want me to have him."

"It doesn't say that anywhere on here," Mahdi shakes his head. "You're being paranoid. I already told you that you couldn't apply to adopt him until you were twenty, and even then they only make exceptions for very special cases—"

"I get it. You're a law major," Isak slumps back in his seat. "Just tell me what the hell I should do now."

"Nothing." Mahdi folds the paper back up, neatly sliding it into its envelope. "You need to focus on keeping your job, studying, and taking care of Felix for the next few months. Then when you turn twenty, we can get your application in order."

Isak scowls.

"I know you're not happy about it. This is how the law works, though," Mahdi offers him a sympathetic smile. "It sucks, but everything is going to be alright. Felix is fine with us."

"For now," Isak mutters. He's not trying to be pessimistic, but he's scared. He hates knowing that each day that passes without him legally adopting Felix brings a higher risk of someone swooping in and taking him away.

"He's not going anywhere," Mahdi promises. "Nobody is going to let that happen. If they really fight you on this once you submit an actual application, I'll consult with my professors about it."

"Thank you," Isak lets out a long breath. "I don't want him to get ripped from his life again. He's already dealt with enough."

"I know."

"And we're not perfect," he continues, "but I don't think we're so awful that he needs to be placed with some fucking strangers. He's happy, healthy and loved, isn't that enough?"

"I think you need to stop thinking about this for now," Mahdi gives him a serious look. "You're going to stress yourself out, and that never ends well."

Isak knows he's right. "Okay."

"I'll start doing some research, alright?" Mahdi says.

"You're busy enough with school, I don't want to give you more shit to worry about," Isak says guiltily. He reaches for the envelope, but Mahdi snatches it back before he can grab it.

"I'm not worrying about anything," He insists. "I'm going to do what I can in my free time, that's all. It's good practice."

"I could pay you?" Isak offers. "Not much obviously, but I could give you—"

"I won't take any money from you," Mahdi cuts him off. "I'm doing this for selfish reasons anyways. I don't want to risk losing my favorite roommate."

"I wouldn't move out if I lost guardianship of him," Isak's brows furrow.

"I was talking about Felix," Mahdi shrugs, smirking.

" _Drittsekk._ "

-

**Jonas:**

_can you handle picking up felix from his practice today? he's already there and it ends at 18:30_

_mikael wants to go on a date_

**Isak:**

_yea of course_

_have fun_

_and be safe ;)_

**Jonas:**

_will do_

_enjoy seeing ur man_

_try to act smooth this time_

-

Isak arrives to the field feeling confident. He's in his navy sweater, a sticker-free pair of jeans, and made sure to do his hair nicely. He's determined not to mess things up again, and that starts with making the jump from a complete mess to someone who has their shit together.

He makes his way down just as practice is finishing up, with the team in a huddle and Even giving a pep talk in the middle of them all. It's endearing to see the expressions of awe on all of the kids faces—frankly, he can relate to them.

He watches the adorable scene of the kids piling around Even in a big group hug, and his heart feels especially full when he notices him ruffle Felix's hair. It's such a small gesture, but Felix looks elated at whatever praise Even gives him along with it, and that fills Isak with joy.

Then Even meets his eyes, and his heart stops.

Isak needs to get a fucking grip. He doesn't understand why his brain seems to switch to awkward, spastic mode whenever he's around Even. He wipes his clammy palms against his jeans, nervously clenching his hands into fists.

He rolls his shoulders to release some of the tension, and walks toward Even once the kids have scampered off for their snacks. " _Hei._ " He says. It's higher-pitched than he had intended, but at least he's managed to say something.

"You're Felix's father, right?" Even asks, smiling kindly. "I actually wanted to have a chat with you."

"You did?" Isak blurts, too startled to correct him.

"Yes?" Even gives him a confused look. "I thought Jonas would have told you that we're arranging the snack schedule for the games. I need to ask which weeks you want to handle them."

"Handle snacks?" Isak has apparently lost his ability to form a coherent thought.

"Yes," Even's smile falls away completely now. "I know it's annoying, but everyone has to do it at least once. It makes things easier."

"I don't have a problem bringing snacks, that's fine," Isak says quickly, if only in hopes of earning that smile back. Before he can overthink it, he suggestively adds, "I could _handle_ other things for you too, if you wanted."

For a moment, it looks as if Even is fighting a smirk. Then his expression settles back into a serious, professional one. "I only need snacks for the games."

"Oh." Isak's face burns. "I can do that. Just let me know when."

"Great," Even says, but it has no enthusiasm behind it.

"Great," Isak echoes, immediately realizing how pathetic he sounds. He desperately thinks for a topic to try and redeem himself, and settles on, "So did you always want to be a coach?"

Even's lips quirk up again. "I've always had a soft spot for kids," he says, "and I remember having really great coaches and really awful coaches growing up. Both can have big impacts on your life, you know? I want to have a positive influence on their lives."

"That's really sweet," Isak compliments. "Is this your full-time job?"

"Is coaching five year olds recreational football my job?" Even seems amused. "Fortunately not. I'm a full-time student. This is something I do for fun on the side."

Isak suddenly notices that he's been staring at Even's lips the entire time he's been talking. He feels like a creep when he lifts his gaze up to meet his again. "What are you studying?"

"I’m studying filmmaking at NISS." Even says with a shrug. "It's not the most practical, I know, but I enjoy it."

"You're a film nerd, then," Isak says playfully, hoping he can redeem himself. "I think it's nice that you're pursuing your passions."

"Yeah. That's the nice thing about not having any responsibilities."

Isak knows Even probably didn't mean it as a dig, but it stings.

He loves Felix—loves him more than anyone or anything in the world. But he misses that feeling of freedom. He misses nights of pre-gaming and partying, and being able to nurse his hangover the following morning without Spongebob Squarepants blasting from the next room over. He misses casual dating without any awkward explanations about why he has to keep checking his phone. He misses sex, because he's quickly discovered there is no one-night-standing when you live with a five year old.

And he feels guilty for missing those things when he has the best nephew in the world. He shouldn't need anything else. He wouldn't give Felix up for anything in the world, but fuck, he wishes he could go an hour without feeling like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He's going to have gray hair by the time he's twenty, he swears.

"Is something wrong?" Even asks, pulling him from his thoughts. "Is it about the snack thing?"

"Everything is fine," Isak lies, straightening up.  "I didn't think snacks were what you wanted to talk about, is all."

"Is there something we should be talking about that I'm not aware of?" Even quirks a brow up.

"I was just—" _wondering if you were actually staring at my ass the other day? And if so, would you care to do something about it as soon as possible?_

"You don't have to worry about your son, Isak," Even says, effectively ending that train of thought. "He's a really amazing kid. He has a lot of friends on the team, he listens to directions well..."

"That's great," Isak clears his throat, shifting on his feet. "It's just that Felix isn't actually my—"

"Pappa!"

Isak's head snaps toward the source of the voice. He knows who it is before he even looks over, but his head still spins when he spots Felix running his way.

Felix has called Isak plenty of things in the past: Uncle Isak, Issy, and even dickhead after an evening of watching sport with Jonas. Pappa is definitely a new one though, and it leaves him feeling as if someone has spiked his veins with ice.

Pappa. Felix is calling him _pappa_ , as if Isak is his _father_ , and the thought of that completely disorients him.

"I missed you," Felix says, wrapping both arms around his legs when he's close enough.

Stunned, Isak places a hand on his back, looking between Felix and Even with huge eyes. It's not as if he can correct Felix in front of Even—is he supposed to correct him at all? He's completely lost.

"Are you alright?" Even asks, watching the interaction between them closely. "You're looking pretty pale right now, Mr. Valtersen."

 _Mr. Valtersen._ Isak is tempted to curl up on the ground and never get up again.

"I'm a little surprised, that's all," Isak coughs. "He doesn't call me that at home. Ever."

"He doesn't?" Even shrugs. "He talks about his 'pappa' all the time here."

"Really?" Isak bites the inside of his cheek. "Wow."

"You shouldn't be embarrassed," Even says, placing a hand on his shoulder. The gesture is so platonic that Isak can almost physically feel the barrier of the friend-zone being established. "I'll make sure none of the other parents are being judgmental because you're a young father."

_Father. Pappa. Father. Pappa. Father. Pappa._

"I—I'm not embarrassed," Isak says, voice trembling. He's really not embarrassed. He's terrified, but not embarrassed. He could never be embarrassed of Felix.

"Alright." Even clearly doesn't believe him, but Isak isn't in the mindset to try and convince him otherwise. "I'll see all three of you on Saturday?"

"All three of us?" Isak asks, perplexed.

"You, Jonas and Felix," Even nods.

Isak wants to reply, but out of the corner of his eye he notices Felix starting to wander back toward the other kids, and he takes a few quick strides to pick him up. "We're leaving in one minute, I promise." He whispers.

"I don't want to hold you up any longer," Even gives Felix an encouraging grin. "You did a really great job today. I can't wait for our game on Saturday."

"It's going to be sooooo much fun!" Felix says, stretching the so out.

"It most certainly will be," Even laughs. "Do you think we're going to win?"

"Yes!" Felix nods eagerly. "Jonas says that we're going to kick the other team's ass—"

"Alright!" Isak interrupts before he can finish that thought, narrowing his eyes at him. He makes a mental note to remind the boys that they need to start watching their mouths around the young boy more. He's beginning to parrot them too much. "What do you say to Coach Even?"

"Thank you," Felix says obediently, looping his arms around Isak's neck.

"You're welcome. I'll see you on Saturday," Even says, waving, and then jogging back toward the other parents.

He's wearing sweatpants and yet his ass looks phenomenal. It's unfair, really.

"Why are you looking at coach like that?" Felix pokes his cheek. "It's icky."

"It's icky, hm?" Isak snaps out of his trance and starts walking toward the car. "You know what else is icky? Using words that you know are naughty."

Felix drops his hand, a pout appearing on his face. "I was only telling what Uncle Jonas said!"

"No more repeating anything that Uncle Jonas says," Isak says, setting him into his carseat. He pulls the seatbelt across, clicking it into place. "Alright?"

"Alright," Felix agrees.

Isak makes his way to the driver's seat, still reeling from the shock of hearing Felix call him pappa. His mind is swarming with questions, but he's not going to ask anything until he can do some proper research.

"Coach Even was looking at you icky too," Felix says thoughtfully. "Does that mean he's sick too?"

"I'm not sick, Felix. No one is sick," Isak shakes his head. At the mention of the coach, he finds himself glancing out the window and back toward him. It's pitiful how affected he is by a man he's barely spoken to.

"But Uncle Mahdi said you were the last time we saw coach!" Felix reminds. "And Uncle Mahdi never lies."

"Uncle Mahdi was just teasing me," Isak assures, shifting the car into gear to drive them home. "Lovesick is a silly word for when someone has a crush on someone else." It's not his best explanation, but hopefully it'll do.

"Do you want to kiss Coach Even, Issy?" Felix asks. When Isak hesitates, he takes that for his answer and bursts into giggles. "You do!"

"Felix—" He starts.

"Issy wants to kiss him! Issy wants to kiss him!" Felix sings the entire ride home. Isak can’t keep the blush off of his face.

-

At the time, leaving Felix alone in the living room with a lollipop, a pack of crayons and Disney Channel playing on the television seemed like a good idea. Isak was desperate—trying to finish an essay on astrophysical plasma and stellar interiors—and needed Felix occupied for at least half an hour. The boy had settled down in front of the table without a complaint, and Isak  optimistically went to the kitchen with his laptop to try and get some school work completed in peace.

In fairness, he didn't realize that the lollipop was the kind with a piece of bubblegum in the center.

_"Issy!"_

Isak curses under his breath, his fingers hovering above the keys. "I'm working, Felix!" He can hear footsteps rushing toward the kitchen and, resigned to his fate, he quickly clicks the 'save' button.

Felix bursts into the room with tears falling steadily down his cheeks and one hand fisted into his hair. "It's stuck!" He wails, as if Isak is some sort of mindreader.

"Your hand is stuck?" Isak asks warily.

The question only makes Felix more hysteric. "No!" He cries, but he doesn't elaborate either.

Isak envies the boys for being at class right now.

"What's stuck then?" He asks, trying his best to sound patient. He gestures Felix over so that he'll be able to get a look at the situation. "Did you put a crayon in your hair? Or—"

"The gum!" Felix sniffles, padding across the room. He slowly lowers his hand, revealing a disgusting piece of chewing gum matted and tangled in his hair.

"Where did you even get gum?" Isak doesn't mean to snap, and he feels awful for it when Felix's little shoulders shake. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. It's okay. You're alright."

He pushes his laptop away, scooting his chair out so that he can pull Felix into his lap. With his arms wrapped around him, he carefully rocks them, trying his best to soothe him. "Just breathe buddy, okay? I'll fix it."

(He doesn't know how the fuck he's going to fix it, but... details.)

"I didn't mean to," Felix hides his face into Isak's chest. Isak tries not to think about the snot currently smearing onto his shirt.

"I know you didn't," Isak promises, slowly standing up with Felix in his arms. "Let me think for a minute, alright?"

"Alright," Felix hiccups.

Isak makes his way to the fridge first, grabbing an apple juice out to hopefully calm Felix down completely. With only one hand, he manages to both open and press the little straw into the juice box (a skill he really should not be so proud of) and passes it to Felix.

While Felix gulps it down, he gets them seated back in the chair and opens up a new tab on his laptop. He doesn't know shit about getting gum out of hair, but Google tells him peanut butter should do the trick. Luckily, although Isak can't stand the stuff himself, Magnus loves it, so they always have a jar in one of their cupboards. He stands once again, this time leaving Felix in the chair, and rummages through the kitchen until he finds the peanut butter.

"I have to put some of this in your hair," Isak warns, standing behind the chair so that he can access his head better. Felix has calmed down almost completely by now anyways, seeming to trust that Isak will handle it. He's got a lot more faith than Isak does.

"Why?" Felix watches him with a concerned expression as he opens up the jar.

"So that we can get the gum out of your hair without cutting it," Isak says, dipping his fingers in. He makes a mental note to buy Magnus a new jar as he scoops out a massive glob, slowly spreading it around Felix's hair.

"It smells gross," Felix complains, trying to squirm away.

"You like peanut butter," Isak reminds. "And stay still, please."

"I don't like this."

"Well, if you don't put gum in your hair again, you'll never have to experience it again," Isak mutters, accidentally yanking a piece of hair when Felix suddenly shifts again.

"Ouch!" Felix yelps dramatically, his hands flying up to swat Isak's away. "I don't like this! You're hurting me!"

"I'm not trying to hurt you. If you weren't moving around so much, it wouldn't hurt." Isak moves his hands away, cringing as he takes in the messy state of them. When he moves his gaze back to Felix, he finds the little boy scrambling off the chair.

"Felix, you need to sit down," Isak intends to sound stern, but it comes out more like the plea that it is.

"No!" Felix shouts the word like battle cry, running right out of the kitchen.

A responsible adult might have tried to do the threatening count to three or put the kid in a timeout then. In retrospect, Isak realizes that _chasing after Felix_ was obviously not going to help calm things down.

"Felix!" He stands on the opposite side of the couch, gesturing toward his head. "What are you going to do about that if you don't let me get it out?"

Felix raises his chin defiantly. "I'll keep it."

"You'll keep it?" Isak repeats, dumbfounded. "You were crying about it ten minutes ago!"

"No, I wasn't," Felix insists.

"Yes, you were," He corrects.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

Isak opens his mouth to retort, then realizes how childish the entire thing is, and bites his tongue. Instead he takes a deep breath and says, "We can watch Frozen tonight if you sit back down."

"You can't make me!" Felix yells, crossing his tiny arms across his chest. "I have rights!"

And, alright. He's clearly been spending too much time with Magnus. Another time he might have found it cute, but Isak's displayed enough patience for one evening.

He moves forward quickly to try and pick him up, but Felix darts the other way and down the hall. He groans, and once again, starts to follow behind him.

He's only a few steps back when he hears knocking on the front door. "Felix, don't answer without—" he starts, but Felix is already swinging the door open.

"Esky, help me!" Felix hugs Eskild's legs, moving so that he's hiding behind them. "Uncle Isak is being a big fat meanie to me!"

"Oh, my poor little bubba. Look at your hair!" Eskild coos, lifting the boy up and onto his hip. "I'm going to have a chat with Uncle Isak right now."

Isak swallows hard, trying to casually hide his hands behind his back. Of all the times for Felix's social worker to show up, it had to be in the midst of chaos. "That's not what it sounds like," He clarifies, clearing his throat. "He got some gum caught in his hair, and it pulled a little."

Eskild rolls his eyes, hoisting Felix higher on his hip. "Relax, baby gay. I have no interest in doing any of the paperwork involved in filing a report." He winks.

"Thanks, Eskild." Isak lets his hands fall back by his sides, flexing his fingers. The peanut butter between his fingers makes him shudder. "It's just one of those days."

"We all have them." Eskild nods in understanding, stepping inside. "Why don't we sit down in the kitchen and catch up while I get this little guy's hair back in order?"

"You think you'll be able to fix it?" Isak asks doubtfully.

Eskild glances at Felix's hair, grinning when Felix turns to look at him. "Of course I can, I can fix anything," He says confidently, but he makes a scissor motion behind the little boy's back for Isak to see.

Isak nods subtly, leading them back to the kitchen. He heads right to the sink so that he can clean his hands off, turning his nose up at the globs falling from his fingers.

"I need some coconut oil," Eskild says. "This poor boy—he's going to smell like peanut butter for weeks."

Isak reaches for a paper towel, eyeing him hesitantly. "Google said that peanut butter works best."

Eskild scoffs. "Who are you going to trust, Isak? Google or your guru?"

"I'll go and get the coconut oil," Isak says, already on his way out of the kitchen.

He returns a few minutes later with the jar in one hand and a brush in the other, but he pauses in the doorway when he notices Felix with his tablet on his lap and earphones on. While it's a good distraction for Felix, it also means that Eskild is going to be able to focus all of his attention on interrogating him instead, which never ends well for him.

He's tempted to turn around and hide in the bathroom, but decides it's easier to face the inevitable. So he slowly makes his way back to the table, setting both items in front of Eskild. He pushes himself up onto the counter right near where the other man is standing and says, "I didn't even know he had the gum."

It's an attempt to keep the conversation on what it should be: Felix. But even though Eskild is their social worker, he's also become a close friend, and he's not dumb enough to take the bait.

"I've seen much worse," Eskild shrugs as carefully massages the oil through Felix's hair. "How are your classes going?"

"Fine," Isak says shortly.

"And your professors? They're all good?" Eskild asks. "What are you learning about?"

"They're all fine. Everything is fine."

Eskild waits for him to elaborate, and lets out a huff when he doesn't. "Wow, Isak. Thank you for sharing in so much detail. I feel as though I've lived every single moment of this semester with you."

"You're a social worker, not a therapist," Isak grumbles.

"I'm the best you've got," Eskild points out. "But if you really don't want to talk to me about your life, we can spend the next hour discussing boring codes that I already know you're following. That's fine."

Isak makes a face. "I'm not in the mood to talk about school," He gestures toward his abandoned laptop. "I was in the middle of writing an essay before Felix got himself into this mess, and I really don't want to think about it right now."

Eskild's face softens. "Okay, that's fair." There's a pregnant pause. It stretches so long that Isak really begins to think that the worst is over. Then he asks, "How's your love life?"

"The same as always. It's nonexistent." Isak says, but his crimson cheeks betray him.

"It sure doesn't seem that way." Eskild leans over, giving him a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Tell me his name. Where is he from? Did you meet him on Grindr?"

"No, I didn't meet him on Grindr." Isak puffs his cheeks up, letting the air out slowly. "He's just some attractive guy, that's all. It's nothing."

"An attractive straight guy?"

"I don't know," Isak admits. "Probably."

Eskild bites his lip, giving him a sympathetic look. "How did you meet him?"

"He—um." Isak coughs, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. "He coaches Felix's football team."

"You have a thing going on with the coach?" Eskild grins. "You know, I watched a porno once that had a similar plot line. It ended very well for them."

"Well, I don't think it's going to end well for us," Isak confesses. It's too easy to share everything with Eskild. "I was trying to flirt with him earlier when I took Felix to practice, and he didn't even flirt back a little."

Eskild winces. "That's rough."

"It was awful," Isak groans. "I practically offered to suck him off right there." It's a slight exaggeration, but it feels like the awful truth.

"At least he knows you're willing," Eskild says.

He shakes his head, "This is why I don't try to date."

"No," Eskild points his way with a peanut butter and coconut oil coated finger. It's a disgusting sight that Isak would like to forget. "You don't date because you're scared."

"I'm not scared of dating," Isak mumbles, picking at a hangnail.

"Fine. You're scared that you're not going to find someone that's good for both you and Felix," Eskild resumes carefully trying to remove the gum.

"Do you think I should back off of this guy now?" Isak asks, hoping to redirect the conversation. He doesn't want to admit how true Eskild's words are.

Eskild considers it for a moment. "Was he giving you the eyes?"

"The what?"

"The bedroom eyes, baby gay," Eskild rolls his eyes. "Was he looking at you like he wanted to fuck you?"

Isak's blush deepens. "I thought he was the other day, but then when I was trying to flirt today, he—"

"He might be shy," Eskild hums. "The most confident people can be the worst at flirting. Trust me."

"He also thinks Felix is mine," Isak says. He glances down to make sure the little boy isn't eavesdropping, before continuing. "He called me pappa when I was picking him up from his practice today, and his coach said he's been doing it since they started."

"Pappa?" Eskild repeats.

"Pappa," Isak nods. "He hasn't said it at home yet, but I guess it's coming?"

"Probably," Eskild says honestly. "And if I were you, I wouldn't make a big deal out of it."

"I won't. Or I'll try not to, anyways," Isak pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's fucking intimidating, though."

"Of course it is. It's confirmation that you're responsible for a little human being." Eskild shrugs. "But look on the bright side."

"What bright side?"

"That means the coach probably thinks _you're_ the straight one, which means you've still got a chance," He smirks.

"Fuck off," Isak pushes himself off of the counter, peering down at Felix's hair. "Did the coconut oil work?"

"It might have if you hadn't made things worse trying to fix it first." Eskild removes his hands. "Go grab a pair of scissors while I wash my hands. He'll never know if we snip it out while he's not paying attention."

"Got it," Isak laughs quietly, starting toward the doorway.

"And Isak?" He calls.

"Yes, Eskild?"

"Next time, don't use chunky peanut butter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> josie, aka the best beta in the world, came up with that "Google or guru" line in addition to helping me brainstorm and edit. thank you for everything josie <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh thank you all for showing this fic so much love. i'm very happy that people enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing it :) and as always, thank you to josie who is responsible for many of the ideas behind this fic and is constantly motivating me!

"If I ever have to hear another word about _organic cotton throw pillows_ or _homemade cleaning products_ , I might combust," Isak groans, kicking his shoes off haphazardly near the couch. He lets himself fall back against the cushions, running a hand through his hair.

Magnus looks his way thoughtfully. "There's organic cotton? Isn't all cotton the same?"

"If you pick Felix up tomorrow morning, Mrs. Larsen will be more than happy to explain the difference in excruciating detail," Isak shuts his eyes, sighing heavily. "I wish I could have a fucking drink."

"Why can't you have one?" Jonas—who is already nursing a beer of his own—asks.

Isak opens his eyes again, giving Jonas an annoyed look. "Because of Felix."

"Didn't you say Felix won't be getting picked up until tomorrow morning?" Jonas reminds.

Isak nods slowly, "He's spending the night."

"You mean we've got the place to ourselves for an entire night?" Mahdi grins.

Magnus's eyes widen comically. "We're alone?!"

"We're alone!" Jonas cheers.

"Holy shit," Isak's stomach sinks with the realization. "We're alone. He's having his first sleepover."

When Felix asked to extend his play date, agreeing seemed like the obvious thing to do. He was happy to see his nephew being social with kids his age, and the fact that he wanted to stay the night seemed even better. With Mrs. Larsen more than willing, he had no hesitation in allowing Felix to stay. Plus, it was an excuse to leave the house before he could hear anything else about being the Perfect Pinterest Parent—which is apparently something to be proud of.

He hadn't considered that it was his first time spending the night away from home. Felix had been too young for sleepovers when Lea was alive, and he had only recently started coming out of his shell around strangers and making friends. He was so caught up in the moment that the reality of the situation hadn't sunk in.

He's hit with a foreign sort of sadness that roots itself into the depths of his chest. Felix is growing up—he's no longer the tiny toddler that once destroyed an essay worth half of Isak's final grade by sticking a flash drive into his mouth. He's a big kid now who can sleep away from home and not even flinch when Isak leaves. And he should be proud of that, because it means that Felix is making healthy progress, but the backs of his eyes sting and his throat tightens.

The boys are silent, watching him as if he's going to have some sort of breakdown. He's not. He won't. Felix will be home in less than twelve hours, so there's no reason for him to be all worked up.

He forces out a laugh, rubbing his eyes quickly to rid them of the building tears. "It's a sleepover, it's not as if he's moved out to go to University."

"We need to get drunk," Magnus decides, standing up.

"Yeah," Isak agrees, "we fucking do."

Finally, the boys are grinning again. Magnus goes off to get whatever alcohol they have hidden away in their cupboards, while Mahdi and Jonas visibly relax again.

"I can't remember the last time I had more than one beer at home," Mahdi says, looking toward Jonas. "Was it your birthday?"

Jonas shakes his head. "We went to McDonald's for my birthday because Felix wanted a Happy Meal for dinner. Remember? Magnus got some of his vanilla milkshake on his face and started making those sex jokes, and that woman sitting at the table next to ours told the manager."

"I forgot about that," Mahdi laughs. "We almost got kicked out."

"If Felix hadn't been there, we would have been. They felt bad for the kid," Jonas says, finishing off the remainder of his beer in three gulps.

"I don't think I've had more than one beer _anywhere_ since Lea died," Isak says. "I probably shouldn't even be doing it tonight."

"You deserve it, man," Jonas places his empty bottle on the table. "My momma told me that the first time I went to camp, she drank half a bottle of wine and spent the entire day watching soap operas."

Isak gives him an unamused look. "Are you really comparing me to your momma?"

"No," Jonas pauses. "Well, yes," he relents, "but that's not the point. The point is that parents need to let loose every once in a while."

"And the best way to do that is by getting shitfaced," Mahdi chimes.

"Exactly," Jonas nods. "Felix may never want to have another sleepover again. This could be our only opportunity to drink together until he's our age." It's an obvious exaggeration, but Isak appreciates the sentiment.

Magnus comes back into the living room, his arms filled with various bottles. He's panting like he's just run a marathon and not walked a mere fifteen steps. "I grabbed everything I could find. We have vodka, beer, and I'm pretty sure there's some whiskey in there too."

"It's a Thursday night. Who the hell drinks whiskey on a Thursday?" Isak asks, reaching for a beer.

Apparently Isak does.

One hour later, the room is spinning. His buzz has settled deep into his bones that's fueling his giddy grin. He feels fantastic, stress and responsibility free—even if just for the evening. It feels like they're still kids at Nissen, pregaming and getting ready to head off to some party.

"Can you believe we're proper adults now?" Isak doesn't realizes he's speaking until he notices the boys looking at him.

"We're not properly proper adults yet, we're mostly nineteen," Mahdi says.

"Yeah, but," Isak gestures around the room. "We live in our own apartment."

"With a kid," Magnus adds. "That's as adult as it gets."

"We're adulting boys, and we're fucking killing it!" Jonas yells, raising his cup up in the air.

Isak, Magnus and Mahdi hold their drinks up too, bumping them together. The liquid sloshes over the rims and drips down their hands, but they're all too drunk to notice.

"I love raising a kid with you," Jonas hiccups, lowering his drink. "It's fucking magical."

"I never kept a pet alive for more than two months," Magnus says, "but we've kept him alive for an entire year."

"But the thing is—" Jonas tries to set his cup down, but winds up knocking it over on the table. He stares at the spilt alcohol for a few moments, then simply reaches for a beer instead. "We're raising a kid."

"Didn't you just say that?" Mahdi, the most sober of them all, asks.

"We're raising a kid," Jonas repeats yet again. There's tears in his eyes now. "A kid, boys! We're a family!"

"Bro," Isak's voice is thick with emotion.

"Family hug!" Magnus stumbles up from his seat and to the other couch, practically falling into Isak's lap as he wraps an arm around either of them.

Mahdi follows in suit, and then they're all squished together on the same couch like something straight from the opener of _Friends_. Sober Isak would hate the unnecessary closeness, but drunk Isak leans into Magnus's side comfortably.

"I love all of you so much," Jonas says, tears falling freely. Isak had forgot what an emotional drunk he is. "You're the best, and we're taking on this big, scary world together."

"We could sell this shit to NRK," Magnus grins, reaching for his abandoned cup.

"We'd need a sexy love interest, and we're all single as fuck." It takes Isak longer than usual to get the words out with his tongue feeling heavy.

Jonas makes an offended noise, stretching his arm across Magnus to deliver a swift flick to Isak's shoulder. "I'm seeing someone right now," he reminds. "Mikael."

"Mikael isn't sexy enough," Isak shrugs.

"You'd think he was sexy if you saw him on his knees," Jonas grumbles.

"Even would make a great sexy love interest for Isak," Magnus says earnestly, ignoring Jonas entirely. "He's taller than Isak, and that never happens."

Isak can't help but nod in agreement.

"How is it going with Even, man?" Mahdi asks. "Any progress?"

"He's so fucking attractive that I'm surprised I don't pop a boner every time he's around." Isak's filter seems to have vanished somewhere between that first sip of beer and now.

"Cute," Magnus says.

"I want to know everything about him without having to stalk his social medias," Isak continues while he pours himself another shot. "And I don't even know if he's interested in boys."

"Do you know anything about him?" Mahdi asks.

Isak downs the shot, placing his cup back on the table. His throat stings, but he savors it. "He's a student."

"At UiO?"

"He goes to Nas—" Isak's brows crease. "Shit, no. That's the uh... the hip-hop artist," he shakes his head. "He goes to NISS, that film school."

Mahdi looks ready to ask another question, but then Isak's phone starts to buzz.

_Incoming call: Mrs. Larsen_

Isak sobers up as soon as he reads the name; not much, but enough for his anxiety to spike. "Fuck."

"Is it Even?" Magnus eagerly asks.

"Why would it be Even?" Isak snaps.

"We were just talking about him, maybe he could sense it!"

"It's Mrs. Larsen, fuck," Isak fumbles with his phone, finally pressing the button. He clears his throat, focusing on sounding sober as he answers. " _Halla?_ "

"Hi Isak, this is Josefine," Mrs. Larsen, who is apparently called Josefine, says. "Felix is ready to be picked up now. He's been crying for a few minutes and wants to come home."

"What?" Isak really hopes he misheard her.

"This was his first time away from home, right?" Josefine laughs quietly. "They never make it the entire night on the first go."

"They don't?" Maybe if he keeps repeating her, she won't notice how drunk he is.

"No," Josefine pauses. "Do you want me to put him on the phone? He's very upset, and it might calm him down some."

"Yes, please. Yes," Isak pinches the inside of his knee, hoping the slight pain will help him focus.

"Pappa!" Felix wails as soon as he has the phone. "I miss you!"

"I miss you too, bud." _Bud?_ "But it's only a few hours until you see me again. If you sleep, it'll be like nothing."

"I don't want to sleep, I want you!" Felix cries.

It feels like a knife to the heart.

"Pappa is right here," Isak really wishes his brain could get ahead of his mouth. "I'm—I could sing you a song? To help you sleep?"

"No! I want to come home!"

"Okay. Okay," Isak swallows. "I'll be there soon."

He hangs up while Felix is still crying, and he feels awful for it, but he needs to figure out how he's going to pick him up when none of them are in any state to drive. He doesn't think walking across the city drunk in the middle of the night would turn out any better.

"I ordered an Uber!" Mahdi announces. "Let's go wait outside for it."

Isak is a little in awe of his friend. "Are you a fucking mind reader?"

Mahdi snorts. "You had your phone on speakerphone."

-

Twenty minutes later, Isak is staggering up the walkway of Mrs. Larsen's house. He uses the handrail to steady himself when he reaches the steps leading up to the front door, and takes them slowly. He still manages to trip over his own foot when he reaches the top, resulting in him colliding harshly with the door.

"Fuck," he mutters, placing a hand against the doorframe to right himself again. He has to look at the ground to fight off his building nausea.

"Isak?"

Isak knows that voice. He listens to it whenever he manages to find time to attend the gaysoc meetings at his University. His eyes are wide as he raises his head, and finds Emma Larsen standing in front of him.

"Are you stalking me?" He asks slowly.

Emma's face shifts from one of confusion to irritation. "Am I—what the hell?"

Isak steps back, nearly losing his balance all over again. This time Emma reaches out and grabs his arm before he can fall, though he's quick to yank it away again.

"You're at _my_ house and you're asking _me_ if I'm stalking _you_?" She asks incredulously.

"No," Isak shakes his head slowly, instantly regretting it when his stomach churns responsively. "This is Mrs. Larsen's house."

"Mrs. Larsen as in Josefine?" Emma asks impatiently.

"Josefine!" Isak says, far louder than intended. "Yes!"

"Shh!" Emma hisses. "I have neighbors, Isak!"

"I need to find Josefine," he insists.

"Josefine is my wife," Emma sniffs once, then leans closer to him and sniffs again. "You reek of beer."

"I'm completely sober?" Isak tries to sound confident, but the words come out as a question. "No one is more sober than me?"

"Right, I completely believe that," she says dryly, crossing her arms.

"Isak? Is that you?" Josefine appears behind Emma, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry Felix couldn't make it through the night."

"Isak? Isak is Felix's uncle?" Emma interrupts.

"I told you that earlier," Josefine reminds, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back. She tilts her head slightly, "why else would he be here at this hour?"

"Yes, but I didn't realize—" Emma lets out a breath, shaking her head. "Isak and I go to school together. He's part of gaysoc."

"You're friends?" Josefine's face lights up. "He needs to come inside, then. You know I love meeting your Uni friends. We can have a cup of tea and chat while the kids settle back down."

"No," Emma says before Isak has the chance to respond, "he can't. He was actually just telling me that he has a paper to finish. Isn't that right, Isak?"

Isask stares dubiously at her for a few seconds, before finally nodding when he realizes she's giving him an excuse. "The most right."

Josefine laughs, clearly convinced that Isak is actually trying to be funny. "I'll go and get Felix right now. I sat them down with a movie until you got here. We'll catch up some other time."

When she disappears down the hallway, Emma turns and gives him a firm look. "You owe me, Valtersen."

"I didn't know you were married," he mumbles in lieu of a response, openly pouting. "Why wasn't I invited to the wedding?"

"Because I didn't know you then?" Emma huffs. "I'm twenty-two and you're a freshman. I married her three years ago."

"When did you have the kid?"

"Josefine had him when she was sixteen," Emma answers shortly. "Do you do this often?"

Isak blinks. "Talk?"

Emma stares at him like she's contemplating smacking him. Thankfully, before she gets the chance, Felix comes rushing down the hallway and to his side.

"Issy!" He cries, his cheeks soaked with tears. "I want to go home!"

"It's okay, bubba," Isak murmurs, smoothing his hair back carefully. He reaches down, taking him by the hand. "Let's go home."

-

Felix refuses to let go of him. When they walk inside, the boy has a hand fisted in his sweatpants the entire time. In the apartment, he grabs his hand again and locks his tiny fingers with Isak's larger ones. Isak tries to lay him down in his own bed, but the tears start all over again and he clings to collar of Isak's shirt.

"I don't want you to leave!" He sobs, "Don't leave like mamma!"

And _that_ certainly sobers Isak up.

He can't breathe for a few seconds after the words sink in. He stares at Felix with slightly parted lips and huge eyes, trying to think of an appropriate response. He's never felt so small, and it's ironic, because Felix is looking at him like he could do anything.

It figures that even in death, Lea would manage to leave some sort of destruction behind. He hates himself for the bitter thought, but he's angry. Felix is the best kid Isak has ever met, and he deserves the mother he craves. He deserves better than his deadbeat piece of shit father—whose ass Isak would gladly kick if given the chance.

He deserves more than Isak.

Isak, who can only wrap him up in a tight hug and say, "I love you, kid. I love you so much."

He rests his chin gently atop Felix's head, his eyes wandering toward the door. The boys are crowded there and watching the scene unfold, showing their support for the both of them.

"We'll all sleep in the living room tonight, okay? How does that sound?" Isak whispers, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "We'll get every pillow and blanket we own, and everyone will be there."

"Okay," Felix whimpers.

So they do.

Jonas and Mahdi gather blankets while Magnus handles the pillows. It takes a while because they're still tipsy, but soon enough they have their own make-shift blanket beds arranged.

Isak settles down with Felix first, letting the boy rest his head against his chest. Then the boys cuddle up to either side of them, until they're all curled together like a group of kittens with Felix right in the middle.

He doesn't let his own eyes droop shut until he's certain that Felix's breathing has evened out, his cheeks have dried. He's more than content with his arm wrapped around his nephew holding him close, and his legs intertwined with those of whoever is beside him (Magnus, most likely. He's a touchy-feely drunk.)

Felix deserves more than Isak. He deserves a family. But in moments like this, Isak can't help but feel that he already has the best one there is.

-

Running passing drills with five and six-year-olds involves less successful passing and more of Even chasing after loose footballs than he had anticipated. It's only five minutes into their pre-game warm-up and he's already exhausted.

It wouldn't be so bad if Mikael—who insisted on coming along to help him in the first place—hadn't disappeared the moment they arrived. But he had, leaving Even to retrieve stray footballs on his own.

"Coach Even, mine went into the woods!" Felix Valtersen informs, running to his side. "Can I go and get it?"

"You kicked it all the way to the woods?" Even tries to sound like he's scolding him, but it's hard when he's so impressed. The wooded area is a good thirty feet from where Felix and his partner are working on their passes, which is a fairly long distance for a kid his age.

"Mhmm," Felix nods impatiently. "Can I go and get it?" He presses.

"No, you can't," Even says. The last thing he needs is to lose one of his students in the woods; especially when said student is the son of one of the most beautiful men he's ever seen. "I'll go and get it for you right now," he adds, noticing Felix's frown.

He waits until Felix is back with the other kids to make his way toward the line of trees, scanning for the ball. When he spots it only a few feet in, he grins triumphantly, stepping forward and bending down to grab it.

It's when he moves to stand up again that he notices two figures in a heated kissing session against a tree just ahead of him At first, he assumes they're two teens who have snuck off from their parents and are trying to get their fill of one another while they can.

Then they break apart momentarily, and Even can clearly see the face of his best friend. He freezes, his eyes widening slightly. He knows that Mikael had mentioned seeing someone recently, but he had failed to tell him that it was someone Even might know through work. He has a playful remark on the tip of his tongue, and he's about to interrupt them when the other man turns enough for Even to see him too.

It's Jonas.

Jonas who is in a relationship with Felix Valtersen's father, Isak.

Even frantically thinks back to his recent conversations with Mikael. He can remember asking about his mystery man and receiving responses like, "he's very family oriented" and "he has responsibilities" every time.

It's obvious that Mikael knows about Isak, and the thought of his best friend being homewrecker is enough to have the blood draining from his face. He doesn't understand how anyone could do something so cruel to people as soft and pure as Felix and Isak.

He wants to announce his presence, let them know that they've been caught and condemn their actions, but he's never been particularly good with confrontation.

He's a coward, and he knows it as he snatches the football up and jogs out of the woods.

But even as he makes his way back to the kids, he knows that he's going to have to tell Isak. It's the right thing to do—and it definitely has nothing to do with Even being more than a little captivated by the man.

"Can we have the ball back, coach?" Felix asks when Even returns. "I won't kick it over there again, I swear it."

"I think we're going to start the game now," Even says, managing a small smile for Felix's sake. "You can kick around again afterward, how does that sound?" He doesn't want to risk Felix—or any of the kids for that matter—catching a glimpse of what he had.

"Okay!" Felix starts to bounce in place, his eyes glimmering with excitement. "We're going to win!"

"We're going to win," Even agrees meekly.

-

He finds Isak after the game.

He's standing apart from the rest of the parents, watching Felix play around with his passing partner from earlier. He looks so focused that Even almost regrets approaching him, but before he can back out, Isak catches him standing a mere few feet back.

"Even," Isak says with a slight smile. It's ridiculous how hearing his name pass the other man's lips is enough to send his pulse skyrocketing.

"Isak," Even nods, taking in the sight of his paler-than-usual complexion and the dark bags under his eyes. "Rough night?" He guesses.

"I don't drink much," Isak manages a soft chuckle. "I have an awful hangover. From Thursday."

"Must have been a fun night."

"It was... a night," Isak says vaguely.

Even waits for him to elaborate, swallowing nervously when he doesn't. "I need to tell you something."

"Okay?" Isak's cheeks pinken. He looks adorable, but Even scolds himself the moment the thought pops into his head. Isak Valtersen is off limits; at least for now, while he's still technically taken.

"I want you to know I'm really sorry," he adds softly.

Isak's brows crease with concern, the corners of his mouth turning down. "Did something happen with Felix?"

"Everything is great with Felix," Even quickly assures. He feels like an idiot for not opening with that, because _of course_ Isak would assume this has something to do with Felix.

"Good," Isak presses his lips together. "Then what is it?"

"I—I saw Jonas kissing someone else," Even admits, watching him carefully. He's been mentally preparing himself for all possible reactions; anger, devastation, even denial.

"What?"

"I'm so sorry," Even repeats. "I can't imagine how you're feeling right now."

"I'm feeling fine?" Isak appears baffled, and oddly, completely calm. "Why wouldn't I? I mean, apart from the headache from this fucking hangover."

Even pauses. Out of all the scenarios that had been running through his head during the game, he never imagined Isak taking the news so well. "You're not upset?" He asks cautiously.

"No," Isak shakes his head. "I'm happy for him."

"You're happy that he's cheating on you?" Even asks, unable to suppress the his boggled expression any longer.

Isak stares at him him blankly for a moment, and then suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter. "Even," he breathes, "you have to be in a relationship with someone to cheat on them."

"You're not...?" He trails off.

"No," Isak says once he's calmed down enough, and openly amused grin stretching across his face. "Never. Jonas is my best friend, and he'll never be more than that."

Even tries not to show how relieved he is. "Well, that's good. I guess he's not cheating on you then."

"Definitely not," Isak assures, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "It's cute that you were so concerned about me, though."

"No one deserves to be cheated on," Even says, like his stomach doesn't do a funny little thing whenever Isak's smile widens.

"No, they don't," Isak quirks a brow. "But is that the only reason?"

With a surge of confidence, Even takes a step closer and hopes he's not reading the signs wrong. "Maybe not," he says. "Is there a reason you’ve been staring at me?”

He's caught Isak's heated gaze more than once, though he's tried to ignore it out of respect for his (as he now knows, non-existent) relationship with Jonas. It's been pure torture trying to hold back from flirting with Isak, and now he doesn't have to.

Isak's gaze flicks to his lips, before he meets his eyes again. "Maybe.”

"Do you want to talk?" Even asks, nodding toward the trail just beyond one of the goals. "This is supposedly a nice spot for taking walks, and I'd like to get to know you better."

"That would be nice," Isak agrees, but he flicks his gaze toward Felix.

"He could come?" Even offers. "Being a father is a pretty big part of you, and I understand that. Felix is a really great kid."

Isak clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "It's not," he exhales."I mean it is, but—he's not actually mine."

Even tries very hard to keep a passive expression. "He isn't?"

"He's my nephew," Isak admits. "I'm raising him, but I didn't... make him... I'm _very_ gay, Even."

"Got it," Even laughs at the disgust on Isak's face.

"My sister, Lea, passed away around a year ago," Isak explains, toeing mindlessly at the dirt. It's something that Felix does often during practices, and Even is very endeared. "I have guardianship of him for now."

Even can tell that there's a bigger story there, but he doesn't want to push it. "That must be really difficult," he says, because _I'm sorry_ feels inadequate.

"It is," Isak pauses, shaking his head as if to clear his mind. "I don't think Jonas will mind taking him home for me."

"If we can get him and Mikael separated long enough," Even snorts. When he notices the curious look Isak is giving him, he adds, "Mikael is my best friend. I saw the two of them earlier—"

"When you thought Jonas was cheating on me," Isak finishes. "Isn't that funny? Our best friends are dating, and we didn't meet until the game last weekend."

Even can't believe it's only been a week since he first saw him. "It's a good thing you came to the game."

Isak seems ready to reply, but he catches sight of something over Even's shoulder that takes his attention away. "Jonas!" He calls, "Stop sucking face for a minute and come here!"

Even turns, and sure enough, Jonas and Mikael have moved from the woods to the small set of bleachers on one side of the field. "Are they really doing that in front of the kids?"

"Jonas once fucked someone while his little sister was enjoying her birthday party downstairs," Isak rolls his eyes. "He has no shame."

Jonas walks toward Isak, seeming irritated until he notices Even. He makes a very _suggestive_ gesture with his hands while pressing his tongue into his cheek. Meanwhile, his shirt is rumpled and the waistband of his boxers is sticking out from the top of his jeans.

His teasing forces a distressed sound from Isak, and he quickly moves to meet him about ten feet away from where Even is standing. He smacks Jonas’s hands when he’s close enough, grumbling, “Cut it out, asshole.”

Isak glances over his shoulder at Even, surveying the distance between them. "I need you to take Felix home," he says quietly, assuming that Even can’t hear him.

He's wrong.

"Are you joking?"

"Don't act like you didn't hook up with Mikael for an hour. You have sex hair. You have sex _everything_ right now."

"He invited me to his—"

"Jonas. If you don't do this for me, there is a very good chance you're wrecking my chances of getting laid for the next twenty years. Do you want me to become a hermit?"

A pause, and then, "Do you have condoms?"

"Jonas!" Even can hear the mortification in Isak's voice.

"I'm trying to look out for you, man! STD's are serious shit. Ask Magnus, he almost fucked that girl who had gonorrhea—"

"I don't need a safe sex lecture!" He hisses. "Please take Felix home."

"I haven't gotten laid in over a week," Jonas says pitifully.

"I haven't gotten laid in over a year," Isak retorts. "Your dick will survive an extra few hours."

"It's been over a year? Seriously? How have you not broken your wrist from all that jerking off?"

Isak sighs. Loudly. "Go. Now."

"Fine," Jonas says, and Even finally looks toward them. "I hope you two enjoy," he smirks.

Isak shoves Jonas, giving Even a sheepish smile. "You didn't hear any of that, right?"

"I didn't hear a word," Even lies.

"Okay," Isak bites his lip like he's trying not to laugh. "Jonas is going to take Felix home now, so I'm free for the next few hours."

"Oh?" Even hums. "Any chance you'd want to spend those few hours with me?"

"I don't know," Isak pretends to think about it. "I really need to go grocery shopping, so."

Even feigns offense. "Are you saying groceries are more interesting than me?"

"The spice aisle is always a riveting experience," Isak somehow manages to maintain a serious expression.

"Chili is what turns you on?" Even smirks.

"No," Isak shakes his head, "the cardamom really gets me going, though."

They both look at each other, and start to laugh simultaneously. Even knocks their shoulders together gently, and their hands brush. Isak glances down, hooking their index fingers together first, and when Even doesn't pull away, he takes his hand properly.

"Let's walk?" Isak offers.

"Let's walk," Even nods.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has 350+ kudos now omg??? that's very amazing, i can't thank you all enough for reading! and as usual, thank you to josie for helping me through every step of the writing process.

Isak is holding hands with Even.

He’s holding hands with Even, and he’s so nervous that he’s certain his palms are covered in sweat. Oh god, what must Even be thinking right now?

He glances over out of the corner of his eyes, and much to his surprise, doesn’t see the face of disgust he’d been anticipating; instead, Even is watching him with a soft smile.

“This is nice,” Even says, meeting his eyes.

“Nice,” Isak echoes back.

A sort of weird but not uncomfortable tension settles over them, as the silence becomes more evident.

“You go to NISS, right?” Isak asks eventually, hoping to break the semi-uncomfortable silence.

Even nods, “I’m in my third year there,” he says. “Are you in school?”

“I take classes at UiO,” Isak presses his lips together. “I work too, obviously. You can't live off of cheap ramen when you have a five-year-old.”

“You work, take classes, and you’re raising a kid?” Even gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “Am I on a date with a superhero?”

“I mean, I don’t do it alone. The boys are amazing,” Isak says, but his eyes widen when Even’s words sink in.

 _Date._ Even is thinking of this as a date. He's on his first date in over a year, and he's not sure whether he wants to throw up or scream. Maybe both.

“And uh,” he coughs, trying to sound casual. “Date?”

Even raises his brows, giving him a teasing smirk. “Well, I typically don't hold hands with the people I have solely platonic feelings for.”

Isak can’t stop the blush from spreading all across his face. Even just chuckles.

“Anyways,” Isak clears his throat, “like I said, the boys help me out a lot. I live with them, so they're always around.”

“Did you move in with them after everything with your sister?” Even asks—not invasively, but enough to test the waters.

Isak shakes his head. “We moved in together during our last year at Nissen. We were all planning on going to UiO, and we get along great, so it made sense to get a place together.”

“It must have been hard on you to lose your sister,” Even says softly. “I can't imagine losing one of my siblings.”

“It was fucking strange,” Isak admits. “It made me realize how life can be here one moment and gone the next. Just like that.”

“It was sudden, then?” Even guesses.

“I was eighteen,” Isak says wryly. “Absolutely on top of the world, and it all went to shit with one phone call.”

The memories are there now, swirling around in his head. And the words just come pouring out of him.

_-_

_He's living in an apartment with his best friends, getting ready to start the best years of his life. He has actual plans for his future—plans to go to UiO and study the universe, to travel the world, and to do it all with the boys by his side._

_He feels invincible. He's spent a lifetime waiting for the world to give him a break, and it finally has. He doesn't have to deal with his absent father, mentally ill mother or infuriating sister any longer. He's young and free, and it's fucking fantastic._

_It's strange, how one simple phone call can change everything._

_It’s about three o’clock in the morning when he wakes up to the shrill ringing of his phone. He rolls onto his side to ignore it at first, but there's a nagging feeling he can't quite shake. So he sits up, blearily reaching toward his nightstand for his phone._

_When he thinks back on those last naive moments, it seems obvious that his world was about to change. There's only one type of phone call that comes in the middle of the night: the kind with bad news. But the world had been so kind to him lately that when things finally spiraled again, he never saw it coming._

_He answers._

_"Halla?"_

_"Halla. Is this Isak Valtersen?"_

_He's already tossing his covers aside and fumbling to pull his jeans on._

_"My name is Ana, and I work for Oslo University Hospital... I'm calling to inform that Lea Valtersen passed away at... the cause of death is still... we need a family member to confirm, but she was carrying identification at the time of..."_

_He doesn't remember most of the phone call, getting to the hospital, or talking to the doctor once he arrived. He doesn't remember sliding down the wall and holding his head in his hands while his tears rolled freely. He doesn't remember the nurse passing him a box of tissues and sitting beside him until he could actually breathe again._

_He does remember this: Felix sleeping peacefully, curled up in one of the chairs in the otherwise empty waiting room, and the promise he made to himself to take care of him._

_-_

“You were dealing with all of that on your own?”

“I didn't have much of a choice. Felix needed me, and I knew that,” Isak carefully intertwines their fingers. “It got a little easier after I met Eskild.”

“Eskild?” Even wonders.

“Felix’s social worker,” Isak pulls a face. “Also my self-designated guru.”

“Guru, huh?” Even can't hide his amusement. “He sounds interesting.”

“He is,” Isak agrees, “and he's become one of my best friends. Don’t ever tell him I said that though. I’d never hear the end of it.”

_-_

_"What do you mean I can't take him home?" Isak clenches his jaw. "I'm his uncle!"_

_"Exactly," the social worker offers him a sympathetic smile. "You're his uncle, not his father. You don't have rights."_

_"That's bullshit," Isak spits. "His father fucked off before my sister could finish telling him she was pregnant. He doesn't want anything to do with him."_

_"I understand that," the social worker says calmly. "That's a good thing. It means you should have no issues getting your guardianship paperwork approved."_

_"So where is he going to go until then?" Isak tosses his arms up in frustration. "You want him to stay with strangers instead of family?"_

_"You're only eighteen, Isak." Mr. Social Worker says in that same obnoxiously nonreactive tone. "If you were older, I might be able to justify him going home with you tonight. Unfortunately, given your age and circumstances, I can't."_

_"Listen here, bud—"_

_"Eskild," the social worker cuts in. "My name is Eskild."_

_"Eskild," Isak continues curtly. "That's my fucking nephew, and he's coming home with me. It's what my sister would have wanted."_

_"I believe you," Eskild says. "But to our current knowledge, she didn't leave a Will, which according  to the law—"_

_"I don't care about the law!" Isak yells, smacking the counter of the nurse's station. The sound echoes through the mostly vacant hallway. "I care about Felix!"_

_He'd never felt pure, hot rage until that moment. With his chest heaving and his blood boiling, and raw adrenaline and anger pulsing through his veins._

_"I care about him too," Eskild says softly, reaching out to place a hand on Isak's shoulder._

_"No," Isak shoves the hand away roughly. "He's another fucking case to you."_

_Eskild still seems unbothered by Isak's attitude. For some reason, that's only more infuriating. "I care about all of my cases."_

_"Then why can't you do the reasonable thing and let me take him home?" Isak pleads. "He needs me. I need him."_

_"If you don't get the proper paperwork in order before I release him to you, he's going to be taken away. Not by me—but my bosses,"  Eskild explains. "That puts a mark on your child services file, which will only make it harder for you to get custody of him in the long run."_

_Isak swallows harshly._

_"I can help you, but you have to let me," Eskild passes him a bundle of papers. "Fill those out tomorrow, and call the number on my business card when they're complete. I'll get them to the right people."_

_"And where does he go until then?" Isak's voice breaks. "Who explains why he's not going to be seeing his mamma again?"_

_"I won't let anyone else explain that to him," Eskild promises. He reaches out and places his hand back on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You'll be able to do that, or I can contact a child therapist and get them in touch with you so you don't have to."_

_"You didn't answer me," Isak's eyes are brimmed with tears. "Where does he go until the paperwork is done?"_

_"A child unable to return to their parent or legal guardian is typically put into a temporary placement," Eskild recites quietly._

_"Foster care," Isak summarizes, a stray tear escaping._

_"It's a temporary placement," Eskild repeats. "It would only be for a few days."_

_Isak fucking loses it._

_His body trembles with the force of his sobs, his face crumpling. He's standing in the middle of a hospital hallway, full-on ugly crying for the second time that night—and to a social worker of all people._

_He's supposed to be proving that he's an emotionally stable person capable of taking care of Felix, and now he's having some sort of breakdown right in front of him. It's beyond mortifying, but he can't stop_

_"I'm s-sorry," he chokes out, wiping his nose with his sleeve. It's unsanitary, but he's misplaced the tissues he was given earlier, and he doesn't need to look like an even bigger mess with snot on his face._

_He gasps loudly, trying to get a breath in between his shuddering cries. Breathing has become a conscious, labored effort. It's too much—everything is too much all at once._

_"Don't be sorry," Eskild steps closer, and for a moment, Isak thinks he's going to take the paperwork back. He's clearly proven himself incapable of  keeping himself together, let alone raising a child._

_But then Eskild sets his papers on the counter beside him, and wraps him up into a tight hug. It's not the sort of hug you give to a stranger, either; it's a chin-hooked-over-shoulder, big squeeze, I'm-here-for-you hug._

_"I'm on your side, Isak," Eskild whispers, rocking them slowly. "I want to help you, just let me help you."_

_"O-Okay," Isak stutters, sniffling. He never cries in front of people under normal circumstances, but he tonight he can't seem to hold back._

_"I'll see if I can have Felix stay with me for a few days," Eskild says, pursing his lips. "I don't know if I can make it happen without losing my job, but I'll try."_

_"Why do you care so much?" Isak whispers._

_"I have a lot of passion for my job," Eskild pulls back slightly, resting both of his hands on Isak's upper arms. "But there's something about you, Isak. I can tell you're a good person."_

_"He doesn't have anyone else," Isak says meekly. "My mamma isn't stable, my father is somewhere in Asia, and the rest of my family are bigoted, conservative assholes."_

_"I'm going to help you make sure he doesn't end up anywhere else. The first step is getting guardianship," Eskild drops his hands at last. "After that, we'll work toward adoption when you're old enough."_

_"What do I do right now?" Isak rubs his eyes._

_"Right now, you go home and sleep. You look exhausted, and you have a lot to process right now," Eskild pauses. "Did you drive here?"_

_Isak pats his pocket, feeling his keys there. "Yeah."_

_"Well, I'll drive you home. You're in no state to be driving," Eskild decides. "I'll figure out a way for you to get your car back to yours later."_

_"You're like a fairy godmother," Isak mumbles._

_Eskild shrugs, a small smile on his face. "I prefer guru."_

_-_

“You should invite him to one of the games, I’d love to meet him. He seems fun,” Even chuckles. “All of your friends seem great, really.”

“They are,” Isak nods. “I don't know what I would have done without them. I was ready to move out, but they were so chill with everything.”

_-_

_Six hours ago, he had a sister. He had plans. Now, he has an orphaned nephew and real responsibilities to figure out. The world is funny like that._

_When he gets home, all he wants is a drink, but for once they don't have any beer in their fridge, so he settles for coffee. He leans against the counter, pressing the heels of his palms over his eyes._

_"Fuck you, Lea," he mutters. It figures his sister would go and get herself killed, leaving him to clean up the mess she left behind. He shouldn't be surprised, considering it was the dynamic of their entire childhood._

_And then his brief resentment turns into sorrow because his sister is actually dead, and he's crying again. He hates feeling so out of touch with his emotions._

_"Isak?" Jonas's groggy voice comes from the doorway. His hair is wild and he's still in sweatpants, meaning he's only just woken up. Isak envies him for that. "Are you crying?"_

_"No," Isak denies, as if his face isn't damp with tears. "It's allergies."_

_Jonas blinks hard a few times to clear his eyes. "You are," he frowns. "What's going on? You never cry, man."_

_"I'm not crying!" Isak snaps. "I have something in my eye, alright?"_

_"I thought it was your allergies?" Jonas looks equal parts confused and distraught. "What the fuck is going on right now?"_

_"I think I might be having a moment?" Isak fists both of his hands in his hair, trying to calm down. "I-I feel like I'm having a moment."_

_“What kind of a moment?” Jonas asks anxiously. “Like the kind your mamma gets?”_

_“No. Not like that,” Isak exhales._

_“Then did something happen?”_

_Isak just nods, the words sitting on his tongue but not wanting to come out._

_“Right,” Jonas nods slowly, staring wide eyed at his best friend. “Is it… a family thing?”_

_Again, Isak nods silently._

_“Alright,” Jonas pauses. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”_

_Isak looks at the ceiling, desperate to keep the tears from falling and his voice from cracking. He tries to steel himself to say it, to just fucking say it, but the words are like a rock in his throat, resolute in the face of overwhelming emotion._

_“My sister is fucking dead,” Isak forces himself to whisper._

_It’s strange, saying it out loud for the first time. He has a dead sister. Is he even a brother anymore? Can you still be a brother, when the sister you used to have isn’t here, and won’t ever be here again?_

_“Lea?” Jonas appears stunned. “Lea is dead?”_

_“Who the fuck else Jonas.” The anger came from nowhere, but suddenly it was there, gripping his insides and threatening to turn him inside out._

_“Right, dumb question. Shit. What the fuck,” Jonas shakes his head. “Do you want a hug?”_

_“Do I want a hug? Seriously?”_

_“That’s what people do when someone dies, isn’t it? They cry,” Jonas gestures toward Isak’s tear-stained face, “and they hug.”_

_“I don’t want a fucking hug, I need my sister back!” Isak’s nails dig into his palms, and he feels a sharp sting of pain. He unclenches them slowly, and sees crescent prints in his skin—some of which are bleeding._

_Jonas doesn’t respond, simply reaches out with wide arms and pulls him into his chest. He doesn’t even flinch when Isak tries to push him away, his arms tightening around him to keep him close._

_“I just want my fucking sister back.”_

_"Why are you making so much noise so early?" Magnus groans, shuffling into the kitchen with Mahdi close behind him. "I can hear you from upstairs."_

_Jonas looks between the boys and Isak, releases Isak from the hug and finally says, "Isak is having a moment.”_

_"Did someone turn him down again?" Magnus wonders. "He got all grumpy the last time he didn't get laid."_

_And that one mindless comment reminds him that he lives with three other teenage boys—quite possibly the worst environment for a four-year-old boy. He can't stay at the kollektiv if he plans on raising Felix._

_He tells the boys as much with an abrupt and rushed, "I need to move out."_

_"Move out? We haven't even been here a month!" Mahdi says incredulously._

_"Are you on something right now?" Magnus asks._

_“I don’t think you’re supposed to make life-changing decisions for at least six months, man. Chill,” Jonas says, eyes filled with worry._

_"I'm not on anything, I just can't stay here anymore," Isak insists, starting to pace. "I'm going to look for apartments—I'll look today," He decides._

_"I’m with Jonas, I don't think you should make any decisions today, man," Mahdi eyes him from across the kitchen._

_"Yeah," Magnus agrees. "No offense, but you're a mess."_

_"I'm not a mess," Isak protests, then remembers that he's still crying. "Well, maybe I'm a little bit of a mess," he amends, "but I really need to move out."_

_"Can you at least give us a reason?" Mahdi asks._

_Isak bites the inside of his cheek. "Lea’s dead."_

_"Lea is—what?" Mahdi's eyes widen. "When did that happen?"_

_"This morning I guess? Or last night? I'm not sure," Isak sighs. “I don’t even know exactly what happened. Everything is like… blurry.”_

_“You didn’t drive home, right? You should have called one of us, bro,” Mahdi frowns._

_“The social worker drove me here.”_

_“Social worker?” Magnus asks, brows furrowing. “Is that a thing? I don’t remember there being a social worker when my cousin died.”_

_Jonas’ eyes suddenly widen._

_“Felix,” he breathes. “Fuck. You have to take care of Felix, don’t you?”_

_"I have to take care of Felix,” Isak affirms._

_"Is Felix her cat or something?" Magnus questions._

_"He's my nephew," Isak murmurs. "You met him and Lea last year on my birthday."_

_"That's the Lea who died?" Magnus's jaw drops open in a way that would be comical in another context. "I didn't even realize—shit."_

_"Do you really need to move out?" Mahdi asks._

_"I'm going to need to find a place where Felix can stay with me," Isak shrugs meekly._

_"Man, I don't want to find another roommate. Can't the kid move in?" Magnus groans._

_"You don't have to be nice to me because my sister is dead,” Isak mutters. “I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. I know this is supposed to be the ultimate bachelor pad, and a kid would wreck that."_

_“We’re not feeling sorry for you, we’re acting like friends,” Jonas says. “We’re not going to kick you out because something shitty happened to you.”_

_“That kid was fucking adorable,” Magnus adds. “He can stay in the spare room.”_

_“You want him to stay in the hook-up room?” Isak makes a face._

_"We don't even hook-up enough to justify an entire room for it. I think it's been used once since we've moved in—twice if you count the time Jonas had a spider in his room and slept in there so he wouldn't have to deal with it." Mahdi points out, offering Jonas a slight smirk._

_Jonas sends him a glare to let him know that it’s not the time for jokes, but Isak does muster up a weak smile. “He’s hated spiders since that time in grade school, when he let one bite him so that he could turn into Spiderman.”_

_“I was six!”_

_“So was I, but I knew better than to willingly let a spider bite me!” Isak snorts. “And then your mom made you go to the clinic, and I had to hold your hand while they gave you a shot.”_

_“I let you hold my hand,” Jonas corrects, “because you were so distraught by the entire situation.”_

_Isak starts to laugh. He laughs, and laughs, and soon he’s in full-blown hysterics. And when the laughter eventually fades back into tears, the boys are right there to hold him._

-

“They’ve supported me from the start,” Isak finishes. “They’re really incredible.”

“You’re incredible too,” Even says. “I don't know how many eighteen-year-olds would be willing to take on so much responsibility out of nowhere.”

Isak flushes from the compliment, “It was the right thing to do.”

“The right thing isn't always the easiest thing,” Even brushes his thumb across Isak’s thumb. The gesture is simple, but it carries so much  intimacy. “You said you're taking classes at UiO, right?”

Isak nods, “I’m studying cosmology.”

“Really?” Even raises his brows. “Maybe you can do my hair sometime, then. I've been meaning to get a haircut.”

Isak blinks, trying to decide whether Even is joking or not. But Even is watching him with a serious expression, and he can't suppress his laughter. “Even, I’m studying _cosmology_.”

“I know that,” Even says, his bottom lip sticking out slightly. “I wouldn't mind you practicing on me. You could dye my hair blue and I wouldn't be mad.”

“Cosmology,” Isak repeats, “not cosmetology.”

“There’s a difference?” Even wonders.

“Yes!” Isak snorts.

“Well what is it?” Even halts his steps, making Isak stop too. “I want to know.”

“Cosmology is the study of the Universe,” Isak says, his gaze flicking from Even’s lips to his eyes. “It's a branch of astronomy, and it's about the origin and development of the universe, but also helps in making predictions about potential scientific phenomena. It covers everything from the Big Bang Theory–”

“I love that show!” Even interrupts with a knowing smirk.

“Not the fucking show!” Isak’s brows furrow. “Fuck, you're such a fucking film major. It's the actual theory, which explains what happened before and after that moment to create–”

He never gets to finish, because Even leans down, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss.

He’s frozen for a few seconds, stunned because _holy fuck Even is kissing him_ , but he snaps himself out of his daze and melts into it. Their lips move together perfectly—and there’s no cliché electricity between them, but he can feel butterflies stirring in his stomach nonetheless.

Even pulls back eventually, allowing them to catch their breath. He leans forward so that their foreheads are resting together gently, a fond smile on his face. “You're cute when you ramble,” he whispers.

“Ramble? Me?” Isak makes a soft noise of protest. “I’m the master of being silent and mysterious. I don't ramble.”

Even’s smile widens. “You do,” he murmurs, leaning in to peck his lips again. “But it's endearing.”

Isak’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. “Anyways, that’s the difference,” he mumbles bashfully. “I don't cut hair or whatever, I study… stars and shit.”

“Is that the real name of your course? Stars and Shit 101?” Even grins, slowly starting to walk again. “If so, maybe I should consider switching my studies to cosmology.”

“It's actually called astrophysical plasma and stellar interiors, which roughly translates to stars and shit.”

Even winces playfully, “I think I’ll stick to making movies.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Isak asks. “Make movies?”

“I want to be a director,” Even nods. “I’ve always admired Baz Luhrmann, I’d love to be even half as great as him someday.”

“Baz Luhrmann is incredible,” Isak agrees. _Who the fuck is Baz Luhrmann?_ “He’s a fantastic… director. All of his movies are incredible.”

“Which one is your favorite?” Even asks, eyes shining with amusement.

“The one with the man, where he falls in love with the woman,” Isak says quickly, hoping Even won't be able to see through the obvious lies.

“That’s nearly every movie,” Even laughs. “It's fine if you don't know him.”

“You need to remind me, that's all,” Isak insists.

Even hums softly, “Have you ever seen the movie Romeo and Juliet with Leonardo DiCaprio as Romeo?”

“Young Leo?”

“Yes, beautiful, young Leo,” Even nudges him gently.

“I haven't seen it,” Isak relents, “but I’m sure I've seen some of his others.”

Even nods, but the look on his face shows that he doesn't believe him. “Those are the types of movies that I want to make. Not the romanticized bullshit Hollywood spoon feeds everyone.”

“I wish I could say I had an opinion about movies, but all we ever watch is Disney or Pixar,” Isak laughs awkwardly. “I could probably recite the entirety of Toy Story and Frozen since Felix always has them playing.”

“Frozen, huh?” Even gets a thoughtful look on his face. “I personally prefer Moana.”

“Anything is better than Frozen,” Isak runs his free hand back through his hair. “Although when I still had free time to watch movies, I enjoyed comedies.”

“Romeo and Juliet is my favorite movie of all time,” Even says, quirking a brow. “You should watch it with me.”

“Like a second date?” Isak asks, the words spilling out before his mind can catch up. He wants to melt into the ground as soon as he registers what he’s said, but Even merely smiles.

“Like a second date,” Even confirms, seemingly unbothered by Isak’s blatant awkwardness. “Maybe next weekend? After the game?”

“Next weekend would be great,” Isak says, biting the inside of his cheek to refrain from adding anything more embarrassing.

“Great,” Even squeezes his hand again. “By the way,” he says, “you look fucking adorable when you blush.”

-

When Isak arrives back to the kollektiv, he feels like the happiest man in the world. Not only did he have a successful first date with the man he's been pining over, but he managed to secure a second date too. Things like that don't happen to him.

He walks down the hall, and finds Felix sprawled out on the living room floor, concentrating on coloring in a picture of what appears to be a giraffe in a tuxedo. Meanwhile the boys are sitting on the couch nearby, with a football match playing on the TV.

“Someone got laid,” Jonas says, brows raising suggestively.

“No one but you got laid today,” Isak corrects, toeing off his shoes.

Magnus scoffs, “You're glowing.”

“It’s actually pretty disgusting,” Mahdi agrees.

“I didn't do anything with him!” Isak insists, then falters. “Well—alright, I might have kissed him. But it was only a peck.”

“A peck doesn't make you look like you spent the morning on the best dick of your life,” Magnus snorts.

“There was none of that,” Isak reaches down, grabbing one of his sneakers and tossing it toward Magnus. “And don't say shit like that when Felix is in the room!”

“It’s not like he knows what I’m talking about!” Magnus yelps, barely dodging out of the way. “Besides, it’s nothing he wouldn't learn from watching the Discovery Channel.”

“I still can't believe you didn't fuck him,” Jonas shakes his head, giving Isak a disappointed look. “I sacrificed my own sex life for yours, and you only got a peck?”

“It was a great peck,” Isak defends. “Not everyone has to jump in bed on the first date, you know.”

“Date?” Mahdi smirks. “It was a date?”

Isak freezes.

“Holy shit, you went on a date!” Magnus cheers.

“We spent the morning thinking you had a dick appointment, and really, you were on a date,” Jonas says, voice full of pride. “Did it go well?”

“It obviously went well, he practically floated in here,” Mahdi points out.

“The date was really good,” Isak seats himself on the couch beside Jonas. “It was, yeah, really good.”

“Is that all we’re getting?”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m in love?” Isak rolls his eyes. “It was a good date, a really good date, and I’m excited for the second one.”

He immediately realizes his mistake as soon as the words are out there.

“You're going on a second date with him?” Magnus asks eagerly. “When?”

Isak sighs heavily, “After the next game or something? I don't remember.”

“You don’t remember. That’s some more bullshit coming from your mouth.” Mahdi groans.

“What did you talk about?” Jonas tries. “Did you learn anything about him?”

“We talked about life and shit,” Isak waves a hand through the air. “School… things like that.”

The boys groan simultaneously.

“Please tell me you didn’t go into your science geek mode with him,” Jonas says slowly.

“Science geek mode?” Isak frowns. “I mean, I talked about it a little–”

“Which means you spent at least five minutes boring him to death,” Mahdi says.

“He didn't seem bored, he seemed interested,” Isak mumbles. “And he told me about his film stuff.”

“Right. Didn't you say he goes to NISS?”

“He goes to NISS, and he idolizes some dude named Baz Luhrmann,” Isak says, resting his head in his hand.

“Baz Luhrmann?” Magnus perks up. “I fucking love Strictly Ballroom!”

“You do?” Isak asks warily.

“Yeah, I tried to like learn the pasadoble, the dance from the movie, for like three weeks but I gave up because it was way too hard.”

“What the fuck?”

“It's a fucking incredible movie, man. Haven't I shown you it before?” Magnus asks earnestly.

“No,” Isak pauses, “but do you think you could summarize the entire plot for me? I uh–” he coughs, “may or may not have told him I know all about Baz Luhrmann.”

“Nope. We’re watching it,” Magnus decides, already reaching for the remote.

“You're not going to prove you know all about Baz Luhrmann by watching one movie,” Jonas says.

“Exactly!” Magnus points the remote his way. “We’re going to have to binge watch him. Lucky for us there are only five films, so it shouldn’t take that long.”

“I can't watch Romeo and Juliet,” Isak says quickly. “That's what Even and I are doing next weekend.”

“Four films, then,” Magnus nods.

“I’m in,” Mahdi agrees, “as long as Magnus shows us his pasadoble.”

“If someone puts Felix down for a nap, I’ll get the popcorn,” Isak says with a resigned huff.

“And I’ll get the whiskey,” Jonas adds, sharing a look with Isak. “We’re going to need it.”

“You're going to fall in love with Strictly Ballroom,” Magnus stands up, moving toward the already half-asleep Felix. “It’s pure brilliancy.”

“You'd better grab some vodka too,” Isak whispers for only Jonas to hear.

“I’m on it.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is pure fluff to make up for the angst last chapter lol. i hope you all enjoy!! as always, thank you josie for helping me out.

“Would you stop moping?”

Isak raises his head to look at Jonas, his trademark grumpy expression painted across his features. “I’m not moping.”

“Yes you are,” Mahdi chimes from his place on the other couch. “It’s honestly pretty fucking depressing.”

“I’m not moping,” he repeats, glancing toward his phone. Reluctantly, he adds, “Not without good reason, anyways.”

“You were the happiest man alive two days ago, what the fuck happened?” Jonas asks.

Isak’s cheeks go red. “I forgot to get his number,” he mumbles.

“Whose number?”

“Even’s number,” Isak snaps. “I forgot to get Even’s number.”

It was something he hadn't considered until that morning, when he found himself restless to speak to Even again. Instinctively, he had reached for his phone to send him a message, only to realize that he couldn't because _he_ _never got his fucking number_.

He knows it might be a little ridiculous to be sulking over something so trivial in the scheme of things, but he doesn’t want to wait the rest of the week to get his fill of Even. It doesn't help that Magnus is at Felix’s practice right now, while Isak couldn't get off work in enough time to take him.

Jonas and Mahdi look toward each other, bursting into simultaneous laughter. Isak scowls at both of them.

“I’m sorry man, but fuck. You practically drool whenever he’s around, and when you finally land a date with him, you don't even remember to ask for his phone number?” Mahdi snorts.

“Besides, you're going on another date with him on a Saturday. Do you really need to speak to him before then?” Jonas adds.

“Yes, I need to speak to him before then!” Isak grabs the throw pillow beside him and buries his face into it. He lets out a long groan of frustration and self-loathing, then lets it fall into his lap again. “What if he forgets?”

“He won't forget,” Jonas rolls his eyes.

“But what if he does?” Isak presses. “What if I wait around after the game and look like an idiot?”

“Chill,” Mahdi says.

“I can't chill,” Isak flops back against the cushions, shutting his eyes. “I want to talk to him, and I can't.”

“I have his number,” Jonas offers, reaching into his pocket for his own phone. “He gave it out at the first practice. I can just give it to you if it means putting an end to this.”

Isak opens one eye, surveying Jonas. “Won't I seem desperate? We went on one date, I don't want him to think I’m some sort of stalker.”

“No,” Mahdi shakes his head, “it'll show that you're interested.”

“You’ll just play it cool,” Jonas pulls up Even’s contact, showing Isak the number. “Just say ‘Hey this is Isak. What's up?’”

“‘Hey this is Isak. What's up?’” Isak repeats, opening both eyes now so that he can type in the number. “I’m almost twenty, that sounds like something I would have sent someone when I was twelve.”

“That's a fine message!” Jonas insists. “You’re overthinking it.”

“Fine,” Isak huffs out a breath, typing out the message. Then he pauses, “Should I add a smiley?”

“A smiley? When do you ever use fucking smileys?” Jonas asks, brows furrowed. “Don't add anything.”

“Right, no smiley,” Isak’s thumb hovers over the send button. “Do you think I sound too disinterested?”

“You were worried about sending too interested, and now you're worried about not sounding interested enough?” Mahdi asks dubiously.

“Isak,” Jonas sighs. “Send it.”

**Isak:**

_hey, this is isak. what’s up?_

Isak quickly presses the button before he can come up with another excuse not to, setting his phone face down on the table. “There, it's done.”

“Good,” Jonas grabs his beer off the table, leaning back. “He’ll respond soon, just wait.”

A few minutes pass with Isak ~~totally not~~ checking his messages every thirty seconds, and no message comes. He tells himself not to panic—Felix and Magnus still aren't back from practice yet, and Even wouldn't be able to message him back while he’s working—but of course he does anyways.

Then, there's a knock on their door.

“I’ll get it!” He says a bit too quickly, popping up from his seat. He makes his way down the hall and to the front door, swinging it open at record speed.

And, really, he shouldn't be surprised that it’s not Even ( _because how fucking ridiculous would that be?_ ) but he still feels disappointed when he finds Felix and Mahdi standing with their arms full of groceries instead.

“My arms are going to fall off,” Magnus grunts, “this shit is heavy.”

“Then why didn't you make two trips?” Isak mutters, taking one of the bags from Felix.

Magnus gives him an incredulous look, “I’ll never make two trips, fuck that.”

Isak merely shakes his head in response, following the two of them into the kitchen. He starts to unload the groceries onto the counter while Felix searches through the bags. Finally, the little boy makes a triumphant noise, and scrambles over to Isak.

“Uncle Mags let me pick out a special cereal at the store for being extra good at practice!” Felix says, eagerly thrusting the vibrant colored box up into Isak’s face.

“He did?” Isak leans back to avoid getting cardboard to the nose, and is able to properly take in Felix’s sugar-saturated choice. “You're going to have cavities after one bite.”

“I love cavities!” Felix grins.

“Do you know what cavities are?” Isak raises his brows.

Felix pauses, lowering the box at last. “No,” he says slowly, “but they sound cool.”

“They’re not,” Magnus says, stepping up beside Isak. “If you get them, you have to go the dentist, and he drills your—mmph!”

Isak smothers his hand over Magnus’s mouth, glaring at him. “Don't listen to Uncle Mags, Felix. Cavities are just… dirty. That's why you have to brush your teeth.”

The last thing he needs is Felix developing an even bigger fear of the dentist because of Magnus oversharing. At his last appointment, the boy had bitten Dr. Fredrik’s finger twice, and then refused to open his mouth again for fifteen minutes.

“Oh,” Felix blinks. “But…”

“Why don't you go to Uncle Mahdi and Uncle Jonas about your practice?” Isak prompts, trying to avoid Felix further pressing the subject.

“Okay!” Felix beams, rushing off to the living room—cereal box and all.

Isak watches him go, but before he can lower his hand, he feels a disgusting wetness against his palm. “Fuck,” he pulls his hand back, his face scrunched up. “What the fuck, Mags?”

“I needed to breathe!” Magnus defends, but the proud grin on his face makes it evident that he had more motivation than that.

“You have a nose to breathe from,” Isak shakes his hand, wiping his hand on his jeans. “I don’t need your gross germs.”

Magnus reaches for his wrist, but Isak yanks his hand back quickly. “What are you doing now?” He asks skeptically.

Magnus shows him a balled up piece of paper, and while Isak is distracted trying to figure out what it is, he grabs his hand. “That's for you,” he says, placing the crumpled slip of paper into his palm.

“For me?” Isak frowns, slowly unraveling it.

It’s a phone number.

Magnus smirks, “From Even. He gave that to me before practice. He said that he forgot to give you his number and asked me to pass it along.”

As if on cue, Isak’s phone buzzes in his pocket.

**Even:**

_halla! sorry for making magnus our messenger, but i couldn't wait all week to speak to you again. i’m looking forward to our date on saturday. :)_

“Smiley,” Isak whispers to himself, narrowing his eyes at the symbol. “I knew I should have added the fucking smiley.”

-

He wakes up an hour early on Saturday.

He starts by making breakfast, somehow managing not to burn or spill anything in the process. He gets all of Felix’s football gear neatly laid out, including his freshly washed kit. He has time to shower, pick out a nice outfit for himself, and perfect his hair without any sort of rush.

It’s perfect. His date day with Even is off to a fantastic beginning, and he’s certain that nothing could soil it.

“So I’m probably going to head home with him right from the game—quit smirking at me like that! We’re watching a movie, not doing whatever the fuck your dirty mind is imagining,” Isak rolls his eyes. “And you're going to take Felix back home…”

“I can't take Felix this afternoon,” Jonas says, his playful smirk dropping into a small frown. “I need to makeup a test for one of my professors. I thought Mahdi was watching him?”

Isak shakes his head, dread already building. “Mahdi is visiting his parents, remember? He left around five and won't be back until this evening.”

“What about Magnus?” Jonas tries. “Magnus is practically always free.”

“He’s working,” He says pitifully, pressing his hands over his face. “We never have plans at the same time, and the one day that no one is available, I’m supposed to going on a date.”

Jonas gives him a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure Even won't mind if Felix tags along. He obviously loves kids.”

“What if he does mind, though?” Isak worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If he does, then he's obviously not the man for you.” Jonas places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “He won't mind. Didn't you say he offered for Felix to come with you guys last week?”

“Yes,” Isak admits, “but that was different. It was spur of the moment. This was a planned date. I don't want him to think I didn't care enough to make arrangements in advance.”

“He's not going to think that,” Jonas shrugs. “Just explain that there was some confusion, and it’ll be fine.”

“I guess,” Isak slowly blows out a breath.

“And look on the bright side,” Jonas adds. “At least bringing the kid means you definitely won't be fucking until the third date.”

“How is that the bright side?”

“He seems like a cool dude, and I’d hate to have to punch him for breaking your heart.”

-

After the game, as he stands on the sidelines of  the field with Felix, Isak can't fight his nerves away. The logical part of him knows that everything will probably be fine, but his desperate, pining heart feels otherwise.

He’s admittedly taking his time walking toward Eveh, despite his nephew’s best efforts to drag him along.

“I want to say goodbye to Aksel before he leaves!” Felix whines, pouting at Isak. He knows better than to run off without Isak giving him permission, but he's obviously not happy about staying with him.

“You can say goodbye to Aksel in a few minutes,” Isak says, his grip on Felix’s hand tightening just slightly. “We need to go and say thank you to your coach first.”

“We didn’t do that before.”

“We’re doing it today,” Isak says firmly. Felix huffs quietly, but allows Isak to guide him toward Even nonetheless.

“ _Halla_ ,” Even grins as they approach. “How are you guys doing this morning?”

“Good,” Felix says. “Can I go say goodbye to Aksel now?”

Isak gives him a firm look, “When someone asks you that, the polite thing to do is to ask them back.”

“What if I don't care?” Felix asks innocently.

Even covers up a snort as a cough.

“You pretend to care,” Isak says with a resigned sigh.

“Oh,” Felix looks toward his coach. “How are you?”

“I’m doing good, thank you,” Even says with a chuckle. “Go have fun with Aksel.”

Felix looks toward Isak for permission, and as soon as he gets the nod of approval, takes off running toward his friend.

“I’m excited for our date,” Even tells Isak once Felix is out of earshot, turning to properly face him.

“About that… I have some bad news,” Isak clears his throat, swallowing thickly. “I don't have anyone to take Felix this afternoon.”

“Okay,” Even nods without missing a beat. “Do you want to reschedule our date, or are you alright with him tagging along?”

“Am _I_ alright with it?” Isak asks in disbelief. “Are _you_ alright with it?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Even shrugs. “I told you last week, I understand that he's a big part of your life.”

“But this is a date,” Isak says dumbly.

“I don't mind,” Even smiles. “Romeo and Juliet isn't very kid friendly, so we might have to postpone watching that, but I have plenty of other PG movies.”

Before Isak can respond, Felix rushes over, tugging at the hem of Isak’s shirt to get his attention. “Are we leaving now? I want to go home and watch a show.”

“Well,” Isak glances toward Even, crouching down to Felix’s height. “I think we’re going to do something different today.”

Felix crosses his little arms over his chest. “What are we doing?”

“You're going to come hang out at my house this afternoon,” Even says. “We can watch some shows and movies too, if you want.”

“We’re going to your house?” Felix’s eyes widen. “Cool!”

“Cool,” Even repeats, ruffling his hair.

“Why don't you go say goodbye to your friends and then we’ll go?” Isak stands upright. He watches Felix rush off again, before turning to face Even sheepishly. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“Isak,” Even smiles calmly, “relax. There's nothing to be sorry about. I’m excited to spend time with you, and I’ve told you before, I think Felix is a great kid. Plus, I already have a car seat that I use when I take my nieces out.”

He looks so _genuine_ about it too—all big, earnest eyes and soft, sincere features. Isak has just sprung a five-year-old on their romantic Romeo and Juliet date night, and Even is completely fine with it. This man can't be real.

“What’s your catch?” Isak blurts. “There has to be a catch.”

“A catch?” Even has mischief dancing in his eyes.

Isak flushes, but he’s determined to make his point. “No one is perfect, and you seem too damn close. That must mean you collect… toenails, or belly button lint, or some shit.”

“I can promise you that I’m not a collector of toenails or belly button lint,” Even assures. “I tried, and the market was completely shit.”

“Fuck off,” Isak mumbles, a grin creeping onto his face.

Even glances around as if to make sure they're still on their own, before leaning closer. “Here's my catch,” he says in a low voice. “I used to date someone in the business of international affairs. It was serious shit too, like potential nuclear wars and all sorts of government secrets.They went undercover and were compromised, and that put me in danger.”

Isak gapes at him, completely captivated.

“So,” Even continues, “the government arranged for me to be put into a witness protection program. My name isn't actually Even—it’s Julian Dahl. And I really hate football, this job is only for the sake of keeping up appearances.”

“ _Serr?_ ”

“ _Nei!_ ” Even finally breaks out into laughter. “I can't believe you thought that was real. Your face was too good.”

Isak can feel the embarrassment burning on his cheeks. “Your face was so serious, how was I supposed to know?”

“Maybe my catch is that I’m a compulsive liar?” Even winks. “Maybe that was a lie, too. Or maybe I’m bipolar.”

Isak hesitates, trying to gauge whether or not Even is joking around again. When Even notices, he gets a serious expression on his face and nods, “I’m actually bipolar. Just so you know.”

“Oh, uh. That’s cool,” Isak clears his throat, then quickly adds, “I mean, it’s not cool. That must be really hard to deal with. But it’s—chill. I don’t care. Unless you want me to care?”

Even watches him with a quirked brow and an amused grin. “Isak,” he says at last, “I know what you mean. You can stop now.”

“Thank fuck,” Isak breathes, almost positive that his blush is all the way up to his hairline by now. “I ramble when I’m nervous.”

“I was nervous too,” Even reaches out, grabbing his hand. “I don’t normally tell people that so soon.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” Even shrugs. “It’s not really their business unless we’re close friends or in a serious relationship. I’m not ashamed of it, but I don’t feel obligated to tell people either.”

“Then why did you tell me?” Isak asks hesitantly.

Even studies him silently for a moment, before he says, “You were really open with me last week, and I wanted to be open with you too. That’s how relationships work.”

“We’re not in a relationship, though.”

“Not yet,” Even grins unabashedly. “I plan to change that soon enough, though.”

“I said goodbye!” Felix proclaims happily as he rushes back over, wrapping his arms around Isak’s legs. “Can we go now? I want to see Coach Even’s house! Do you have a cat? Or a dog? Or turtles?”

Even laughs fondly, starting to lead the way to his car. “I don't have any dogs or turtles, but I do have a cat.”

Felix frowns, “I like dogs better, but a cat is okay, I guess.”

“Felix,” Isak admonishes, “that's not nice.”

“I’m just _saying_ ,” Felix says. He sounds far too much like a moody teenager for Isak’s liking. (And fuck, Isak dreads those years.)

“Watch your tone,” Isak warns, carefully peeling Felix’s arms away so that they can follow behind. “Even is being very nice by letting us come to his house, and you need to be on your best behavior. Okay?”

“Okay,” Felix grumbles, his expression mirroring that of Isak’s typical grumpy face. It’s a little scary how similar they are a times, in both appearance and personality.

“We’re going to have fun,” Isak promises. “And you like cats anyways. You always have fun with Zeus when we go to visit Uncle Mags’s parents.”

“Zeus is cool,” Felix says pointedly. “He only has one eye, like a pirate.”

“One eye?” Even, who slowed his steps to walk with them again, asks. “That does sound pretty cool.”

Felix gives Even a hopeful look, “Does your cat have one eye?”

“No,” Even chuckles. “Simba has both of his eyes, but he does play fetch.”

“Simba like The Lion King?”

“Exactly!” Even unlocks the car, winking at Felix. “The Lion King is one of my favorite movies.”

“Awesome,” Felix breathes, climbing into the backseat.

Once he’s all buckled into the car seat, Isak shuts the door, leaning lightly against it. He raises a brow at Even, “You really named your cat after Simba?”

“No,” Even smiles sheepishly. “He’s actually called Baz Purrman, but I had a feeling Felix would appreciate Simba more.”

“Baz Purrman?” Isak snorts, giving him a teasing grin. “You're that guy? I guess I've found your catch after all.”

Even nods in a faux solemn manner, “You've got me. Awful cat puns are my vice.”

“And lying to little boys so that they'll like you more,” Isak adds.

“That too.”

-

They arrive to Even’s apartment a short time later, and there seems to be an unspoken agreement between them that the plan for their date will stay relatively the same. Although they won't be able to watch Romeo and Juliet with Felix, they can still have a nice time enjoying a movie or two together.

“Why don't you choose our movie?” Even offers to Felix. “I don't think you'd like any of the ones I have around here, they're pretty boring.”

“Really?” Felix thinks for a moment. “Can we watch Frozen?”

“No,” Isak says immediately, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think Even has that movie here. Do you, Even?”

“Well…” Even laughs uncomfortably, his eyes darting over to the stack of DVDs on one of his shelves.

“He does!” Felix grabs the copy as soon as spots the familiar characters, holding it up triumphantly. “Can we watch it, please?”

“Of course we can, buddy,” Even says, giving Isak an apologetic look.

“Why the fuck,” Isak hisses when Felix isn’t looking, “do you have Frozen on fucking DVD?”

“I’d like to blame my nieces,” Even says quietly, “but I really just enjoy the film.”

Isak blanks. “Sorry, what?”

“It’s a good film? Nice morals? A talking snowman? It’s cute?”

“The fucking snowman,” Isak says, “is an idiot.”

Even holds his hands up in surrender, “Alright. You can tell me more about your hate for Olaf later, but we should probably help Felix out. I think he's trying to use the DVD player like it's a touch screen.”

Isak looks toward his nephew, who was, sure enough, tapping the top of the device like he was waiting for it to turn on. “Yeah,” he agrees, “he is. I don't know that he's ever seen one before.”

Even’s lips twitch with amusement. “Thanks for making me feel old.”

“Anytime.” Isak stands up, moving toward Felix to stop him. He places a hand on his back gently to get his attention, “Felix? Why don't you go sit down and I’ll get this all set up?”

“I can do it,” Felix replies stubbornly.

“You've never used one of these before,” Isak says, his patience already thinning. “Just let me do it.”

“I want to!” Felix hugs the disk close to his chest, squinting up at Isak.

“Felix—”

“Hey, Felix?” Even calls from his place on the couch. “Baz—I mean, Simba, is here if you want to meet him.”

Both Felix and Isak turn to face Even, and their eyes simultaneously fall to the small gray cat curled up on the floor by his feet. Felix looks between the cat and Isak, holds the DVD out silently, then scrambles over to pet the cat.

Isak gives Even a thankful look over his shoulder, and once the movie is all set up, he settles down on the couch beside Even. When their hands brush, he mindlessly takes Even’s into his own, slotting their fingers together. It feels completely natural to be so close to him.

There’s something about Even that never fails to fill Isak’s chest with a warm, fuzzy sort of adoration. He’s already whipped, frankly.

As the movie begins, Isak finds himself leaning into Even’s side. Without missing a beat, Even drapes an arm around his shoulders and pulls him in closer.

Its only then that Felix spots them sitting together, and suddenly decides that he wants to join in too. He clambers up onto the couch, somehow squirming himself right in between them.

“I thought you were visiting Simba?” Isak asks, hoping that the bit of annoyance he’s feeling doesn't show in his words.

“I wanna sit with you instead,” Felix rests his head on Isak’s shoulder, turning his attention back toward the TV.

Isak and Even exchange looks above his head. Isak’s was one of pure mortification, while Even seemed to be stifling laughter. After a moment, Even drapes his arm over the back of the couch, offering his hand out again.

Isak takes it with ease. He never wants to let go.

-

Later, with the ending credits of their third movie playing and a sleeping Felix sprawled out across their laps, Isak’s gaze wanders to Even. He’s surprised to find the other man already looking back.

“You're beautiful,” Even says quietly.

“What?” Isak flushes.

“I mean it,” Even raises a hand up, gently cupping Isak’s cheek. His thumb swipes across his cheekbone, a ghost of a smirk in his face. “You're beautiful.”

And people have called Isak plenty of things in his life, but _beautiful_ has never been one of them. There’s something about the way Even says it that sends a pleasant shiver over him.

“Flattery really won't get you anywhere,” Isak averts his eyes down toward Felix, not sure how to respond. “Not with him around, anyways.”

“I’m not saying it to get into your pants, Isak.”

“Then why?”

“Because you're beautiful,” Even repeats, “and you deserve to hear it.”

Then, before Isak can protest, he closes the small distance between them. Their lips lock, and Isak forgets how to breathe.

He melts into the kiss—as much as he can with Felix sleeping right there, anyways. He’s certain that kissing Even will never get old. Every time brings out dormant feelings that he wasn't even sure he still had. It’s not fireworks and sparks, but it's _passion and desire_ , which he thinks are even better.

Eventually, he dips his head slightly, enough that their lips are parted but their foreheads are resting together. He lets their noses brush gently, savoring the intimacy between them.

“We should probably stop before Felix wakes up and asks questions,” he whispers reluctantly.

Even nods, leaning back properly. “This was a fun night.”

Isak chuckles awkwardly, “Even though we had a third wheel?”

Even meets his eyes, “I don't mind that he came, Isak. Really.”

“Thank you for being so chill about everything,” Isak says sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”

“You don't have to keep thanking me,” Even hums softly. “I had a lot fun with you—with both of you.”

“We’ll watch Romeo and Juliet next time, I guess?” Isak smiles timidly.

Even tilts his head slightly, leaning closer. “You want there to be a next time?”

Isak falters. “I, um… I do, yeah.”

“I do too,” Even grins, and then ducks down to let their lips meet again.

-

In an effort to prove that chivalry is alive and thriving, Even walks them home.

He’s holding Felix’s left hand while Even holds his right, and the three of them take their time strolling the streets of Oslo. Occasionally, Felix will lift his legs up, letting the men hold his weight so he can swing. Even adjusts to the weight without even flinching, continuing the conversation without a hint of hesitation. It makes Isak swoon.

“Can I come visit Simba again?” Felix asks when they turn onto the street of the kollektiv, his eyes wide and pleading as he looks up toward Even.

“You can come visit him whenever you want,” Even promises, giving his hand a soft squeeze. “As long as your uncle is okay with it, of course.”

Felix frowns, head tilting in confusion. “Which one?”

“Thank you,” Isak says quickly, not giving Even time to process the question. He doesn't need Felix disclosing all of their unorthodox life on the walk home.

“You don't have to thank me,” Even says yet again. “It was a good afternoon.”

Isak stops outside of the kollektiv, nodding toward the building. “This is us,” he says reluctantly. Admittedly, he doesn't want to see their date end.

“Can I go inside?” Felix asks, placing his hands on his tummy. “I’m hungry, and you always talk to coach forever!”

Isak considers that for a moment. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't let Felix inside on his own; but he knows that the boys are all back by now, and he's desperate for any extra time with Even he can get.

”You’ll go right up to the apartment? No wandering?” He asks.

“I’m hungry,” Felix repeats, as if that’s all the answer Isak should need.

“Right to the apartment,” Isak says sternly, opening up the door into the building for him. Felix quickly runs inside, heading right for the stairs up to the kollektiv.

“And then there were two,” Even says with a soft laugh.

Isak doesn't respond. Instead, with a sudden spurt of bravery he didn't know he had in him, he rocks up onto his toes and meets Even’s lips with his own.

Even seems surprised at first, but Isak can feel his initial smile. It only takes a few seconds for Even to relax into the kiss, one hand trailing up Isak’s back and to the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck.

With Felix inside, Isak finally lets their kiss deepen. He parts his lips willingly, his hand moving up to cup the back of Even’s neck. He steps closer, their bodies pressing together.

He can't shake the feeling that someone is watching them, though. He opens his eyes, and his gaze drifts up toward their apartment window out of instinct.

Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi are all huddled there, with Felix clearly trying to squirm in front of them to get a peek at what they’re looking at.

He quickly shuts his eyes again, using the hand that had been at the back of Even’s neck to casually flip them off. He’ll chew them out for their awful attempt at spying later, but for now he's going to enjoy it.

When they part to breathe, Even doesn't pull back. He loops his arms around Isak’s waist, leaning their foreheads together. They don't speak, neither wanting to break the raw intimacy of the moment.

They stand together like that for what feels like hours, their forms illuminated by the streetlight above them. He’s just kissed Even for all of Oslo to see, and something about that subtle claiming fills him with contentment.

“Are you going to be okay walking home?” He forces himself to whisper, though he hates to soil this. “It's getting pretty dark.”

Even sighs fondly, his lips grazing Isak’s jaw line. “I’ll be fine,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin just underneath his ear.

“I’ll see you on Sunday,” he whispers, before turning around to disappear into the night. Isak watches him go, completely stunned.

When he can no longer see Even’s silhouette, he flicks his eyes back to the window. The boys are still there, all with identical smirks. As soon as they notice Isak looking at them, they make obnoxious kissing faces—most likely with sound effects he’ll be subjected to as soon as he walks into the apartment.

Isak raises both hands above his head, his middle fingers up and directed right at them. Someone remind him why the fuck he’s raising a kid with those three losers?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really can't begin to thank you guys enough for the response to this fic. i'm so happy you're all loving this as much as i love writing it :) and of course, it wouldn't be an author's note without me saying thank you to my lovely beta josie too.

When Felix first asked if Aksel Larsen could come to their house for a play date, Isak was admittedly hesitant to agree.

Although he was happy to see his nephew making friends, he was still unsure how the other parents would react to his unique living situation. It seemed easier to say no and avoid explaining anything for as long as possible, but Felix’s crushed expression caused a quick change of heart.

He has to force himself to describe his _roommate situation_ to Mrs. Larsen, who just takes the confession in her stride. As it turns out, her only concern was the sickness that Aksel has just started getting over—she didn’t want Felix getting sick, too. After assuring her that he wasn't worried about the cold, they set up a date and time for the boys to get together.

Now it's Monday, and he’s spending his afternoon off from work supervising two little kids. It’s substantially less awful than he imagined, but it's still not ideal. It’s times like these where he misses the old days, where joints and beer with the boys filled his free time.

He’s carrying in a bowl of chips for the boys to share as a snack when he catches sight of them. He pauses in the doorway of the living room, barely resisting the urge to coo. The scene in front of him is too adorable—both boys sprawled out on their stomachs and facing one another, giggling hysterically about something.

Then Felix leans over and presses a swift peck to Aksel’s lips.

Isak’s stomach drops right to his feet, his eyes widening. He’s frozen with the shock of what he just witnessed, and can only blink at the boys for a few moments. _What the fuck was that?_ He knows he’s new to this whole parenting thing, but he’s pretty certain that five and six-year-olds shouldn't be kissing one another.

He’s holding his breath, waiting for Aksel to run out of the room crying and demanding to go home, but the boy does neither. Instead he leans over, and gives Felix a quick kiss of his own.

“I have a crush on you,” Felix says bluntly, his legs swinging carelessly behind him. “My uncles told me that you kiss someone when you have a crush on them. That's why Issy was kissing coach.”

And honestly, fuck his fucking friends.

“I have a crush on you too!” Aksel grins, displaying the gaping hole where one of his front teeth used to be. “You make me happy, and that's what my mammas say is most important when you like someone.”

“Are we gonna get married someday?” Felix wonders, as if it’s that simple.

Aksel shrugs. “Maybe. We've gotta be boyfriends first, though. That's the rule.”

“Oh,” Felix frowns.

Aksel reaches one hand up, using his fingers to spread Felix’s lips back into a smile. “It's okay,” he says earnestly, “you can be my boyfriend starting right now.”

Felix clearly tries to fight the genuine smile away, but fails. “Really?”

“Really,” Aksel nods. “And then when we’re old, we can get married.”

Isak doesn't know how to feel, frankly. The entire conversation is soft and pure, but he also his protective instincts tell him to quickly put an end to it.

“Boys,” he clears his throat, finally making his presence known. “I—I saw that.”

They both stare at him with mirrored expression of confusion.

“The kissing,” Isak clarifies, gesturing between them. He shouldn't feel this awkward addressing kids, but they've somehow made him feel small. “You shouldn't do that from now on. That's for older people when they have crushes, not for kids.”

“It's fun though,” Felix pouts.

Isak can't argue that. “It is fun,” he agrees, “when you're old enough. No more kissing until you're at least thirteen.”

“Are we in trouble?” Aksel asks warily.

“No, no,” Isak shakes his head. “You didn't know better, but now you do.”

Aksel sneezes, then proceeds to wipe his nose on his sleeve. It’s disgusting and earns a small gag from Isak, but Felix doesn't even flinch. Maybe they’re ready to consider a future marriage after all.

“Instead of kissing,” Isak says, regaining their attention, “you guys can hold hands. That’s just as fun. Alright?”

“Alright!” Aksel eagerly reaches over to grab Felix’s hand.

“Are you going to hold hands with Coach Even?” Felix asks.

“I brought you boys a snack,” Isak says in lieu of an answer, setting the bowl down on the nearby table. “I’ll order a pizza for dinner in a little bit.”

He turns to leave the room again, and as he does he hears Felix whisper, “That means yes.”

-

Inevitably, Felix catches the Larsen boy’s cold.

Isak is sitting on his bed and watching his lecture on stellar atmospheres when he hears the familiar patter of little footsteps down the hallway. He presses pause on the video, anticipating Felix’s interruption.

“Issy?” Felix pokes his head into the room, his lower lip wobbling. “I feel yucky.”

“You feel yucky?” Isak slides his laptop off of his lap, gesturing for Felix to come closer. “Is it your tummy? Your throat? Your head?”

“Everything,” Felix says, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. He makes his way over to Isak, holding his arms up so that he can be lifted up. Isak complies, pulling him up into his lap and letting him snuggle close.

He raises his hand to Felix’s forehead, frowning at the heat radiating from his skin. He checks the back of his neck too, and finds a similar temperature there. While he knows neither is an exact measurement, he's almost positive the boy has a temperature.

“I think you've got a cold, kid,” Isak sighs.

Felix whimpers miserably.

“It might help if you sleep,” Isak tucks a strand of hair off his forehead. “I could tuck you back into bed?”

“Nooo,” Felix clings to the fabric of Isak’s shirt, sniffling. “I wanna stay with you.”

“Alright,” Isak smooths a hand down his back. “Do you want me to make you some tea?”

Felix merely shakes his head, pressing his face into the crook of Isak’s neck. He’s always clingy when he’s under the weather, which tends to hinder Isak’s ability to be productive.

“Okay,” he pauses, looking toward his abandoned laptop. It’s Friday night, and ideally, he needs to watch his lecture tonight so that he can stay on top of the course material. “Do you want to watch one of my school videos with me?”

Felix doesn't respond, but he also doesn't make any sort of protest, so Isak takes his lack of reaction for agreement. He settles back against the pillows with Felix curled up on top of him, one arm secured around him while the other balances his laptop.

He resumes the video, and after only a few minutes of listening to discussion about the layers of stars, Felix is dozing off to the sound of his professor’s voice.

-

The following morning, Felix has a stuffy nose, puffy eyes, and a sore throat. Isak has been up with him since four, when the boy had woken up to an awful coughing fit that lasted nearly ten minutes straight. It took ages of rummaging through their cupboards before Isak finally found their thermometer, which confirmed that he had spiked a temperature too.

So it was pretty clear that Felix would not be going to his football game.

He’s mildly disappointed when he realizes that he won't be seeing Even, but Felix will always be his priority. If that means spending his morning helping his nephew blow his nose instead of flirting, then so be it.

While he gets Felix a cup of tea, he sends Even a quick message to explain their absence at the game.

**Isak:**

_hi even. felix caught a cold and still isn't feeling well, so we’re going to miss the game today. i hope you're doing well._

Even's response is almost immediate.

**Even:**

_oh no :(_

_can i do anything?_

**Isak:**

_no, but thank you. focus on your coaching duties, i’ll talk to you later x_

**Even:**

_alright. keep me updated xx_

The fact that his first instinct was to offer his help makes Isak’s heart flutter. It’s such a tiny thing, but it means a lot to know that he’s there for them. Simply put, Even is amazing, and Isak feels a little in love with him.

“What are you smiling about?” Jonas asks as entered the kitchen, heading right for the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of water, sliding it into the bag over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” Isak says quickly, gesturing toward the mug on the counter in front of him. “I’m making Felix some tea.”

“Felix doesn't like tea unless he's sick.”

“He _is_ sick,” Isak sighs. “I guess he caught Aksel’s cold.”

“Or mono,” Jonas snorts.

Isak glares, “Don't joke about that, it's not funny. I don't even know why I told you they kissed.”

“It kind of is, though,” Jonas shuts the refrigerator door again. “It’s sweet. If they grow up and actually get married, you'll be able to tell that story at their wedding.”

“They're not going to get married,” Isak grumbles. “They're kids, and they were just copying what they've seen other people do.”

“You don't think it's sweet?”

“Of course I think it's sweet,” Isak relents, “but it would be sweeter if it weren't my kid. I want him to enjoy his childhood, he shouldn't grow up too quickly. Having a boyfriend and—and kissing that boyfriend, that can all wait.”

“You're turning into such a dad,” Jonas says as he zips up his bag. Then he asks, “Is he really sick, or is it like when he gets his pretend stomach aches because he wants cuddles?”

Isak shakes his head, “It’s a nasty cold. He started feeling sick last night, and it was worse when he woke up this morning.”

“It started last night and you didn't tell me?” Jonas frowns. “Do you need me to skip class?”

“Don't skip class,” Isak says, rolling his eyes as he picks up the cup of tea. “I can handle this on my own, it's not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Isak says confidently. “I've got this.”

“Alright,” Jonas says in resignation. “If you change your mind, just send me a text and I’ll come back.”

“Go and get the overpriced education your parents are paying for,” Isak waves him off, turning his attention back to the tea.

When Jonas has gone and Felix’s drink is ready, he makes his way back to the bedroom. Felix is still curled up underneath the cover, sleeping restlessly. His forehead is slick with sweat, and there’s a frown etched onto his features. It makes Isak’s heart ache to know that he’s feeling poorly, and yet he can’t do anything to make him feel better.

“Hey, bug,” he whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reaches up, gently moving the hair away from Felix’s eyes. “I’ve got some tea for you, it might help your throat.”

Felix whines, mumbling in a sleepy voice, “I don’t want it.”

Isak sighs, “How about just one sip?”

“No,” Felix sniffles.

Isak presses his lips together. He knows that Felix needs to be drinking, because the last thing he needs is to get dehydrated right now; but his nephew can be as stubborn as a rock when he wants to be.

“If you take a sip,” he reasons, “then I’ll have Uncle Jonas pick up a special treat for you tomorrow from the bakery.”

Felix looks at Isak with vague interest. He’s got identical dark bags underneath his eyes. “A cupcake?”

“Whatever you want,” Isak agrees, nodding toward the cup in his hands. “Just take a sip or two of this for me.”

Slowly, Felix sits up, rubbing his eyes with closed fists. Then he reaches for the cup, allowing Isak to help him guide it to his lips so he doesn't spill the warm drink on himself. He takes a three obedient sips, and then lies back down again.

“We should probably get you into a bath,” Isak tells him, setting the tea down on the nightstand. “It might help you get rid of this fever, and it could make you feel a little better.”

“I’m tired, Issy,” Felix complains, his words accompanied by a yawn.

“We’ll sleep a little more,” Isak nods, more than oblige by lying back down with him. He’s always hated early mornings, so he’ll happily seize the chance to get a a few extra hours of sleep.

He settles back, allowing Felix to curl up on his chest again. He’s a clingy little thing when he’s sick, desperate for constant contact and affection.

“Will you rub my back?” Felix mumbles into the fabric of Isak’s t-shirt, peeking up at him.

“I’ve got you, kid,” Isak whispers, smoothing a hand down his back. He started to rub small circles between his shoulder blades, letting Felix drift off again to the steady beating of his heart.

It only takes five minutes before he’s out like a light, too.

-

There’s a soft knock on the door that pulls him from sleep. Blearily, he squints at his alarm clock, and the digital numbers tell him it’s 13:26. He carefully shifts Felix onto the bed beside him to avoid waking him, and sits up slowly.

As he pushes himself out of bed and makes his way to the door, he assumes that one of the boys are back from class and forgot to take their keys. He’s got a lecture about responsibility on the tip of his tongue when he opens the front door, only to come face-to-face with Even.

Even is at his apartment looking completely gorgeous as always, while Isak has an awful case of bed head, is in his pajamas and can’t remember if he brushed his teeth that morning.

“Um,” he says, because _what the fuck is happening_.

“Hi,” Even says, holding up a massive Tupperware container. “I made soup and I wanted to bring it over.”

“You… made soup? Like from a can?”

Even makes an offended noise, “Canned soup? Is that the kind of person you think I am?”

“Well—” Isak blinks. “I don't know.”

“I made it from scratch,” Even says. “It's a recipe my mamma made me when I was younger whenever I wasn't feeling well. I thought Felix might enjoy it.”

Isak steps aside to let him in, “You didn't have to do that,” he says, but there's clear gratitude and admiration behind the words.

“Of course I didn't,” Even shrugs as best he can without dropping the soup. “I wanted to do it for you guys, though.”

It’s quite possibly the most perfect thing anyone has ever said to him.

Isak leads him toward the kitchen, practically glowing with glee as he does. “How did you know which apartment was ours?”

“I bumped into one of your neighbors downstairs,” Even winces ruefully. “I may have told them that I’m your cousin. That’s going to be an interesting conversation to have someday.”

“You couldn’t have said that I was your friend? You had to go with cousin?” Isak laughs softly. “What if they saw our little show on the street the other night?”

“Then I guess your neighbor thinks you're into incest,” Even grins, following him down the hall.

“Fantastic,” Isak says sarcastically.

Even sets the container down onto the table once they reach the kitchen, “I hope the soup turned out alright. I followed my mamma’s recipe, but I’m still not sure it turned out quite as good as hers.”

“It smells amazing,” Isak assures, his stomach growling almost like an afterthought. To hide his embarrassment, he quickly adds, “Thank you. Felix is still sleeping right now, but I’ll bring some to him when he’s up.”

“Do you want to try some?” Even asks. “It’s not only for Felix. I made it for you, too.”

“I’d love some,” he agrees.

“Great,” Even grins, walking toward the cabinets. “Where do you keep your bowls?”

“What?”

“I’m getting you some soup,” Even says, “and unless you want to eat it straight from the container, I need to know where to find a bowl.”

“I can get it myself,” Isak gestures toward the correct cupboard in spite of his words. “You just made it and brought it over here, you don’t need to serve it to me too.”

“I want to get it for you,” Even says firmly.

So he does. He gets a serving of soup into the bowl and heats it up, humming as he moves around the kitchen. It’s so natural to see Even here—in his space; his home—that it startles him to remember that this is the first time he’s been over. Hell, he doesn’t even know about Isak’s three roommates.

Even is such a new fixture in his life, and yet in some ways Isak struggles to remember what it was like without him. Feelings are weird.

“You should blow on it,” Even comments as Isak raises the spoon to taste it.

Isak gives him a petulant look, “I’m not a child, Even. I know how to eat.”

Even gestures toward the steam rising from the liquid. “It’s fucking hot though, you'll burn your mouth if you don't blow on it first.”

Stubbornly, Isak swallows the bite of soup anyways. And, yeah, it’s fucking hot. He’s certain the roof of his mouth will have sores from the scalding liquid, and his throat stings even after he’s gotten it down.

He tries not to show any of this to Even, who watches him with a knowing expression. “Delicious,” Isak says, his voice hoarse now.

“And that didn't burn you?” Even asks, stifling a laugh.

“Not in the slightest,” Isak lies.

“Then why did you do a cute little wince when you tasted it?”

“I did?” Isak pauses. “I mean, uh. I did. I knew that.”

“Sure,” Even smirks. “Then take another bite.”

Isak’s lips part, his eyes widening slightly. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Even gestures toward the bowl. “If it didn't burn you, it shouldn't be a problem.”

Isak blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, which happens to be, “I’m full.”

“You're full? You had one bite of soup, and it was mostly broth. You expect me to believe that?”

Isak slowly picks up his spoon again. His mouth is going to hate him for this, but he's set on proving Even wrong—regardless of the fact that he’s right. He dips his spoon back in, gets another scalding bite, and swallows it as quickly as he can.

This time, he can’t help sticking his tongue out to try and soothe it. It burns far more intensely now, and he waves a hand frantically in front of his mouth.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“I tried to tell you,” Even laughs. “I can't believe you just did that to prove a point.”

“You clearly don’t know me well enough yet,” Isak says, speaking with a slight lisp due to his dead tastebuds.

“You’re right,” Even nods, slowly stepping toward him. “I’d like to change that, though.”

“Yeah?” Isak breathes, tilting his head up slightly. It’s suddenly easy to forget the pain he’d been in mere moments ago.

“Yeah,” Even whispers, their mouths inches apart. Isak shuts his eyes in anticipation, when he hears the familiar jiggling of their front door knob from down the hall.

“Shit,” he curses, his eyes flying open. He looks helplessly between a confused Even and the hallway, just as the boys voices begin to flood inside.

“—so this dude has one hand up her skirt and the other under her shirt, and then his _girlfriend_ walks over. And she fucking dumps a drink right on top of his head with all of these people watching from the hallway,” Magnus cackles. “Fucking hysterical, man.”

“Why was he hooking up with someone else while his girlfriend was at the party?” Jonas asks. “He sounds like a piece of shit to me.”

“That’s what makes the story funny, Jonas,” Isak can practically hear Magnus’s accompanying eye roll. “He got what he deserved.”

Then, much sooner than Isak would have liked, the boys are in the doorway of the kitchen. They all stare at Even and fall into an awkward silence, until Jonas simply shrugs and heads right for the fridge.

“I’m fucking starving,” he says. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I had to sit through a three hour lecture this morning too, and I only slept for one of those hours.”

“Even,” Isak forces a smile, gesturing toward his friends. “You know the boys.”

“I do,” Even says, and though he smiles politely too, his eyes are filled with confusion.

“Why is Even in our apartment?” Magnus asks, his brows furrowed.

“He stopped over,” Isak says, hoping that they’ll act chill about this. “He brought soup for Felix.”

“Soup?” Magnus perks up. “Sick!”

“It’s for the kid, idiot,” Mahdi rolls his eyes.

“If it’s in our fridge and doesn't have a label, then it's fair game for everyone.”

“Did Magnus say _our_ apartment?” Even asks Isak, curious but not judgmental.

“Yeah,” Isak looks up toward the ceiling, avoiding Even’s eyes. “We, uh. Live together. All of us.”

“You all… live together? With Felix?”

“We’re his uncles,” Mahdi says, taking a seat at the table. He reaches into his bag, pulling out his laptop and setting it up. “We’re helping Isak out with raising him.”

“So you're brothers?”

“No?” Mahdi gives him a strange look. “Where did you get that idea from?”

Jonas steps around Even to grab a bowl down from the cupboard, “We’re not actually related to Felix and Isak. We’re family by choice.”

“I know it's not the most traditional way of raising a kid,” Isak says quietly, “but it works out pretty well for us.”

“I think it's sweet,” Even shrugs, smiling kindly. “My best friends and I are really close too, and I’d like to think they'd be this supportive of me.”

“We’re not just friends,” Magnus huffs, “we’re in a codependent, platonic relationship.”

“Bro,” Jonas groans. “We agreed not to say that in front of people.”

Magnus smacks his hand to his forehead, “Shit, I forgot! It’s just so fucking fun to say—”

“Ignore Magnus,” Isak murmurs for only Even to hear. “He says whatever comes to mind. I don't think he has any sort of a filter.”

“A codependent, platonic relationship,” Even repeats nonetheless, ignoring Isak’s plea. He laughs, and says to Magnus, “That’s pretty catchy.”

“It’s the kind of shit that we could put on television,” Magnus moves toward the table to pop the lid off the soup for Jonas.

“Probably,” Even nods, looking all too amused by their antics. “Maybe I’ll make a movie about you all someday.”

“As long as you pick a good actor to play me, I’m down,” Jonas says, spooning some soup out into the bowl. When he’s got enough, he places it into the microwave to heat it up.

“I don't think anyone would want to watch a movie about us,” Isak scrunches his nose up. “It’d be fucking awful, we’re not interesting enough.”

Even lifts a brow. “Just for that, I’m going to make a movie about you someday.”

“Me?” Isak splutters.

“You,” Even confirms with a nod. His lips form a smirk as he says, “it'll be called The Boy Who Couldn't Eat Soup Without Burning His Tongue.”

“That's a shit title,” Isak says, flushing.

“It's an honest title,” Even steps closer, his hand skimming the countertop. It’s as if he doesn't care that there are three other people in the room with them.

The microwave beeps right beside them, and yet Even doesn't flinch. He remains in his place with his face inches from Isak’s, and their eyes locked. If not for the intense desire between them, he might have been intimidated by the obvious heat to Even’s gaze.

Jonas shamelessly squeezes between them to retrieve the heated soup, subtlety winking at Isak. “We’ll go check up on Felix and give him his soup.”

“Okay,” Isak forces out. He registers their fading footsteps, but he’s consumed by the depth of Even’s beautiful blue eyes.

And then Even kisses him again, and the world feels right. He’s completely, undoubtedly whipped if his reactions to him are anything go by.

They’re interrupted a few seconds later by Magnus, who scrambles into the kitchen and snatches a package of saltine crackers off of the counter. “Sorry, don’t let me break the mood,” he says with a grin. “We forgot the crackers, and what’s soup without crackers?”

“Magnus,” Isak mutters, “go.”

Magnus complies, but as he goes he pointedly calls over his shoulder, “Don't do anything unsanitary. We cook on those counters!”

“I’m sorry about them,” Isak says, giving Even a timid smile. “They're… a lot.”

“They're great,” Even corrects, “and so are you.”

“You're pretty great too,” Isak tells him, placing his hand atop Even’s on the counter.

“I missed you at the game today,” Even says, turning his hand so that he can interlock their fingers. “It wasn't the same without you there.”

“I missed you too,” Isak admits. “I’m glad you came over.”

“I came for selfish reasons, honestly,” Even chuckles. “I couldn't wait an entire week to see you again.”

“I’m sure this isn't what you were expecting,” Isak glances down at his apparel. “I’m not even in my nice sweatpants.”

“Well, I love them,” Even grabs the strings of said sweatpants, looping them around his fingers and tugging Isak in close again. “You always look amazing.”

“Are you kidding?” Isak asks. “You’re the one with the fucking—chiseled jaw and shit.”

“Chiseled jaw, mmm?” Even leans down, allowing their noses to brush together gently. “You're giving me a bit too much credit.”

“I’m really not,” Isak whispers, his lips brushing against Even’s in the process. “You’re incredible.”

Even opens his mouth like he's going to reply, but the familiar tones of _5 Fine Frøkner_ cut him off. He takes a small step back and pulls his phone out from his pocket, rolling his eyes as he presses mute. “That’s my mamma calling, probably to see how the soup making went.”

“Your ringtone for your mamma is Gabrielle?” Isak asks incredulously.

“Yes?” Even quirks a brow. “She’s a talented artist, Isak.”

“Gabrielle?” Isak repeats. “This feels like a fucking hashtag.”

“What does?”

“When you've found the man of your dreams and it turns out he likes Gabrielle,” Isak shakes his head slightly.

“What’s that?” Even moves his hands up so that they're settled on Isak’s hips. “Am I the man of your dreams? Or?”

Isak casts his gaze downward, face burning. “That's how the hashtag goes…”

Even rests their foreheads together, waiting for Isak to meet his eyes. When he does, he presses their lips together in a brief kiss and murmurs, “Say it again.”

“Hmm?”

“Say it again.”

Isak stares at him with parted lips for a few seconds before he whispers, “You are the man of my dreams.”

Even squeezes his hips softly, and kisses him again. Isak brings his hand up to cup the back of his neck, pouring himself into it. It’s sensual and steamy, so unlike anything they've done before, but Isak’s not complaining. Even nips at his bottom lip, and his knees wobble responsively. His head feels light in an oddly satisfying way.

When they eventually part, Isak’s lips are swollen and red. They’re both breathing heavily, and yet neither of them make any move to fully part. They stand in place, holding onto each other like lifelines.

“I want you to be my boyfriend,” Even murmurs eventually. His lips are glistening. “I know we haven't been on enough dates for it, but I trust my heart.”

“Okay,” he exhales.

“Really?” Even seems pleasantly surprised.

Isak shrugs, a small smirk working itself onto his face. “Well, I can't let Felix be the only one with a new man.”

“Felix has a boyfriend?” Even asks.

“Little Aksel Larsen from the team,” Isak explains. “That's how he got the cold.”

Even shakes his head playfully, “You Valtersen’s are just too hard to resist. It must be the eyes.”

“No,” Isak gives him a faux serious look. “It's definitely the hair.”

“Hey, Isak?” Jonas peeks his head into the kitchen. “Felix is asking for you.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in a minute,” Isak says, pressing his lips together. “Did he eat the soup?”

Jonas shakes his head, “He wouldn't sit up, and now that he has, he just wants you.”

Felix’s cries start echoing down the hall, proving Jonas’s words as true. The sound of his desperate, “Issy!” makes Isak’s chest clench.

“I need to go,” Isak says to Even, gesturing toward the doorway. “I’m sorry. It’s one thing to leave him be when he’s sleeping, but—”

“I get it,” Even steps back, offering him a soothing smile. “I only wanted to bring the soup over and say hello. Everything else was a bonus.”

“Alright,” Isak nods, but the tension doesn't leave his shoulders. He feels awful for basically kicking Even out so suddenly. With apologetic eyes, he repeats, “I’m sorry.”

“And Isak?” He adds.

“Yeah?”

Even looks him right in the eyes. “Never apologize to me for caring about Felix. I understand. You don't have to feel like you need to justify anything to me.”

Isak can practically feel his heart swell. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “Seriously.”

“Go to Felix,” Even ducks down, giving him one last goodbye kiss. “But message me later so I know how he’s doing.”

“I will,” Isak promises.

He starts to walk Even down the hall, but before he can leave, there’s a few rather loud coughs and sniffles from behind them.

Felix comes rushing toward Isak first, grabbing onto his leg. His face is covered in a gross mix of snot and tears, and he’s paler than he was earlier.

“Oh, bug,” Isak sighs sympathetically, temporarily forgetting that Even is still watching. He reaches into his pocket for a tissue from earlier, and carefully wipes his face clean.

“I wanna cuddle,” Felix croaks.

“We can cuddle,” Isak nods, lifting him up.

Felix’s eyes instantly drift to Even. “Coach?”

“Hi buddy,” Even says softly. “I heard you weren't feeling well, and I wanted to stop by.”

Felix doesn't hesitate before stretching one arm out for him.

“Felix,” Isak bites his lip, ”coach was just leaving—”

“Coach cuddle too?”

“I can stay,” Even says, moving closer. He lets Felix pull him toward both Isak and his own little body, until they’re huddled together in some form of a group hug.

“Are you sure?” Isak whispers.

“I’m sure,” Even nods.

“Then let's go have a little cuddle,” Isak hoists Felix higher onto his hip, starting toward the bedroom. Unsurprisingly, the boys have already gone; most likely having been ready to bail out the moment they realized that staying would entail dealing with snot.

“This is the first time I’ve been in your bedroom.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Isak isn't sure whether that's an exhilarating or depressing observation. “Make sure you don't step on one of Felix’s Legos. He always leaves them out in here, and those things fucking hurt.”

“I’ll keep my eyes out for any rogue Legos,”

Isak gets onto the bed with Felix, easing into their usual spot—him on his back, and Felix half on his chest, and half curled against his side. He looks toward Even, “Pick your position.”

Even snorts, wiggling his brows teasingly. “This is exactly how I imagined our first conversation in your bedroom going.”

“Fuck off,” Isak says with a soft snort.

“Evy,” Felix whines impatiently.

“Sorry little man,” Even says, carefully climbing onto the left side of the bed. He lays on his side so that he can stretch an arm across both Felix and Isak, his head resting on one of the pillows. “Is this good?”

Felix nods contentedly, squirming so that his back  is pressed against Even’s chest, but his head is still resting on Isak’s chest.

“You're still okay with this?” Isak looks toward Even just to be sure.

“This is perfect,” Even says, and he means it if the look in his eyes is as genuine as it seems.

Isak is completely gone for this man.

“Can Evy stay forever?” Felix mumbles.

“Not forever,” Isak says quietly, moving a wild curl away from his face.

“Not yet,” Even corrects, meeting Isak’s eyes from over Felix. “Not right now, anyways. But maybe one day.”

“Maybe one day,” Isak echoes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. it has arrived. the chapter many of you have been anticipating—the one where shit finally hits the fan. yes my friends, welcome to the (probably only) angsty chapter of this fic. don't worry though, there's still fluff mixed in for you all to enjoy ;) also this is the longest chapter yet at nearly 7k which is crazy omg. 
> 
> i've added trigger warnings to the end notes, but PLEASE NOTE that they only apply to this chapter, which is why i'm not adding them as actual tags. this is still the fluffy, happy story you all know, but.....plot development needed to happen.

**Unknown-**

_Hi Isak, this is Ruth. I’m letting you know as a courtesy that our lawyer will be getting into contact with you soon about a custody hearing for the boy._

_We know that it is in his best interest to be living with us rather than you, where he’s surrounded by sin. He deserves an opportunity to be a normal, healthy boy, and you are unable to provide him with that. I hope that you've matured enough to be able to recognize this. I’ll continue to pray for you._

**Isak-**

~~_save your fucking prayers_ ~~

~~_i hate you_ ~~

_the only thing i recognize is how toxic you and the rest of the cult in Bergen are._

_i’m going to block your number now, and i won't respond to you or any of YOUR family again._

_stay the fuck away from me and out of my life, mormor._

-

“What the fuck do you mean I have to take Felix to Bergen?”

“We received a court order for visitation,” Eskild says, wringing his hands the mug on the table in front of him. “It’s only one visit, but it's going to have to be held in Bergen.”

“This is complete bullshit,” Isak spits. “You expect me to willingly take Felix to see those assholes?”

“Yes,” Eskild says evenly, “because if you don't, you're signing away your rights to Felix. It’s a mandated visit. You don't really have a choice.”

Isak shakes his head furiously, “I won't do this to him.”

“You have to,” Eskild gives him a serious look. “Don't fuck yourself over because of them—don't give them that satisfaction. I’ll be there, and the boys can tag along if they want to. You're not alone.”

“You don't understand.”

“I understand that you can't go against a court order. If you refuse to take him, then I’ll have to take him myself, and the judge won't be happy with that. Isak,” Eskild sighs, “make something easy on yourself for once.”

“I hate them,” Isak whispers. “I fucking hate them.”

The raw truth lingers in the air between them, and Isak feels like he’s choking on it. He pushes his chair away from the table harshly, and the harsh scrape cuts through the otherwise silent kitchen. As reality sinks in, his chest begins to tighten.

He’s going to have to face his family.

He stumbles toward the counter, gripping the edge and dropping his head down. He gasps, tears stinging the back of his eyes, but he squeezes em shut and refuses to let them fall.

“Isak?” Eskild’s wary voice sounds like background noise. “Fuck—baby gay, breathe. It's alright.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Isak snaps, though he's not sure what Eskild has even said. “ _Shut the fuck up._ ”

“I hate seeing you like this,” Eskild’s hand hovers a few inches shy of his back, like he can't decide whether touching him will make things worse. “How can I help?”

“You can't,” Isak sucks in a sharp breath. “I have to go and be around those fucking emotionally abusive pieces of shit, all because a dumbass judge signed a fucking paper!”

“You're not alone,” Eskild repeats, finally settling his hand on Isak’s shoulder. Isak quickly shrugs it off, but his guru doesn't even flinch. “I won't leave you or Felix alone with them.”

“But—”

“I need you to trust me,” Eskild says. “I know that's not easy for you, but I’m looking out for you.”

“You don't know them,” he mumbles, wishing that he could make Eskild _get it._ “They're not like you; they're not good people.”

“I deal with bad people everyday, Isak. It's part of my job to help get kids out of bad situations.”

“How long do we have to stay?” Isak mutters, left with no choice but to resign to his fate.

“An hour,” Eskild smiles sympathetically. “It won't be as long as it sounds. Some visits are all-day, so we got lucky.”

“Right. Lucky,” Isak laughs humorlessly. “I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

-

They’re cleaning up dinner later that night when Isak decides to tell the boys. He tries to finds the right words, a way to explain everything, but draws a blank.

Finally, he abruptly says, “I need to take Felix to Bergen to see my asshole family, and I was wondering if you guys would come with me?”

“We’re going to Bergen?” Magnus perks up. “I haven't been there in ages! It's fucking beautiful.”

“We’re not going for a holiday,” Jonas shoots him a look, “we’re going for moral support.”

“Does that mean we can't have fun?” Magnus pouts.

“Yes,” both Jonas and Mahdi say in sync.

“Fine,” Magnus surrenders. “When are we going?”

“This weekend,” Isak says, grabbing the paper Eskild had given him earlier out of his bag. “The judge wanted it done as soon as possible. We’ll have to stay a night or two out there, I think. It's a long drive.”

“Are you going to be okay seeing them?” Jonas asks. “I know you've said that they're… conservative.”

“I don't know,” Isak says honestly. “I think as long as I’m not alone with them, I’ll be alright. But I don't expect them to act like anything but the toxic monsters they always are.”

“Toxic monsters?” Magnus frowns. “Isn't that a little strong? They're still your family, right?”

“Wrong,” Isak says grimly. “Toxic monsters isn't nearly strong enough to describe what awful people they are, and they haven't been my family in years.”

Then, before the boys can ask anymore questions, he says, “I need to go study,” and swiftly leaves the room.

-

It isn't until later that he remembers their trip to Bergen means Felix is going to miss another football game. He knows Felix won't be happy about missing a few hours of time with Aksel, and frankly, he's a little disappointed to know that he won't be seeing Even in his coach mode for a second week in a row.

Instead of sending a text this time, he decides to call Even. Not only does it feel a lot more personal, but he also wants to hear the sound of his voice.

Even picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”

Isak clears his throat. “Halla Even. It’s Isak.”

He can practically hear the smile in Even’s voice as he responds, “I know. I have caller ID.”

“Right,” Isak is grateful that Even can't see his now bright red face. “I wanted to let you know we won't be at the game again this weekend.”

“I thought you said he was feeling better?”

“He is,” Isak says quickly, “but I’m taking him to Bergen for the weekend.”

“Bergen?” Even hums. “A little holiday?”

“I have some family out there,” Isak says vaguely, “the boys and I are taking him to meet them.”

“Sounds fun,” Even says. “I have to admit though, I’ll selfishly be missing you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Isak hesitates. “Maybe when I get back, we can finally have our _Romeo and Juliet_ date?”

“I’d love that,” Even tells him, letting out a small laugh. “Or if you can't find anyone to watch Felix, I know a nice little playground that my nieces love.”

“I doubt you want a five-year-old to keep crashing our dates.”

“Isak,” Even says, his voice serious. “I don't mind. Honestly. If I did, I wouldn't have spent a few hours cuddling in bed with both of you last Saturday.”

“I’m sorry,” Isak lets out a breath, “I know that. I just—”

“You're trying to look out for me and for him,” Even finishes. “I appreciate that. But I promise, I want you—not just you, but the entire package that comes with you.”

“That means a lot to me,” Isak admits. “Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me,” Even chuckles softly. “Give me updates during your trip, alright?”

“Alright,” Isak starts to nod, then remembers that Even can't actually see him and promptly stops. “Maybe we can—FaceTime or something. If I can manage to find time to myself.”

“Are you asking me to be prepared for a phone sex booty call, Isak?”

“What?” Isak splutters. “No! I meant… I thought privacy would be better since I have nosey friends who are way to invested in my life—”

“Isak,” Even interrupts, laughing. “I was joking. I know that's not what you were talking about. Although for future reference, I wouldn't be opposed to that.”

Isak’s face heats up, “Noted.”

“Would Saturday around 20:00 work for our virtual date?” Even asks. “Or will you still be busy with your family?”

“No,” Isak rushes out. “Saturday around 20:00 is great.”

“Perfect,” Even grins. “I’ll see you—er, speak to you then.”

“Perfect,” Isak echoes like an idiot, and after saying goodbye, he hangs up. At least Saturday will bring something good after all.

-

Saturday rolls around far more quickly than Isak would have liked. It feels too soon when he tosses their overnight bags in the trunk, and gets into the car for the drive.

After five bathroom breaks, three listens of the _entire_ Frozen soundtrack and a quick stop at McDonald’s for lunch, they arrive in Bergen.

As they pull up the driveway, there's a sense of dread deep in Isak’s bones. He stares at the house before him, his pulse suddenly pounding in his ears.

It’s exactly as he remembers it.

“This is your grandmother’s house?” Magnus asks, his jaw dropped open in shock. “Bro, this is like a fucking mansion!”

Isak exhales, drumming his fingers against seat. “She’s rich.”

“Clearly,” Jonas leans down to get a good view out of the windshield. “Fuck, why are you even paying your own tuition?”

“You'll find out,” Isak mumbles, undoing his seatbelt.

“You three stay in the car with Felix while Isak and I let them know we’re here,” Eskild tells the boys, putting the car into park.

Isak gets out of the car as Eskild does the same, shuffling up the driveway in silence.

“If you feel uncomfortable at any moment,” Eskild says quietly, “go back to the car. I’ll be supervising everything.”

“I’m already uncomfortable,” Isak fires back, “and yet here we are.”

Eskild looks like he wants to say something more, but decides against it with a shake of his head. He clasps Isak on the shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, and then letting his hand fall again.

“I’m sorry,” Isak’s eyes fall to the ground. “I shouldn't be snapping at you.”

“You're nervous,” Eskild says. “I understand. You don't have to apologize.”

Isak doesn't respond. Instead he quickens his pace, getting to the steps leading up to the front door and porch a few paces ahead of Eskild. He knocks (three times, sturdily,) in determination, feeling slightly more confident with the reminder that he's not alone.

The door swings open, and Isak’s personal nightmare is suddenly right in front of him.

“Welcome home, Issy!”

Isak clenches his jaw, the sarcastic voice testing his restraint. “Lukas,” he mutters.

“Did you miss me?” Lukas smirks.

“Where’s Ruth?” Isak asks, choosing to ignore his blatant taunt. He doesn't need to cause a scene—at least, not yet.

Lukas leans against the doorframe, spitting near Isak’s feet. “She’s doing shit.”

“She’s the one who demanded I come here with my nephew,” Isak says, annoyance clear in his voice. “Whatever she's doing can fucking wait.”

Lukas shrugs with one shoulder, looking him up and down. “She’s making sure she’s got her bible, cross and holy water ready. She doesn't normally have to use the holy water, but with you coming…”

“I’m gay,” Isak seethes, “not possessed.”

“Says you,” Lukas snorts.

“You haven't changed at all, I see,” Isak rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “You’re still as bigoted as ever.”

“That's a big word for such a small boy,” Lukas says, finally spotting Eskild behind Isak. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Eskild Tryggvason—”

“Mormor!” Lukas hollers into the house, not giving him time to finish. “The sinner is here!”

Isak goes rigid for a moment, willing himself to calm down. He hears footsteps and digs his nails into his palms to ground himself as best he can.

Ruth’s face is pinched into a deep scowl when she appears in the doorway, clutching a bottle of holy water in one hand. She splashes some toward Isak.

“Is that really necessary?” Isak can't bite his tongue. “Seriously?”

“I refuse to risk you spreading your evil sins throughout my home,” Ruth lifts her head, sticking her nose up. “Where's the boy?”

“The boy has a name. Felix.”

“Lea always did have awful taste,” Ruth sighs.

“We’re leaving in exactly one hour,” Isak says, once again not engaging. He has a serious, unwavering expression. “The social worker is here to make sure we stay the entire time the judge ordered.”

“I would hope so,” she huffs. “I don't want you lying about anything the way you did when you were younger.”

Isak bites down on the inside of his cheek. Hard.

Eskild, picking up on the tension, takes his silence as an opportunity to introduce himself. “ _Halla,_ ” he offers Ruth a polite smile, holding out his hand. “I’m Eskild Tryggvason—”

“Do you need to speak that way?” Ruth cuts him off, folding her across her chest.

“In… my voice?”

“So _gay,_ ” Ruth says the word with clear disgust. “It's obnoxious.”

Eskild’s face falls instantly. “Pardon?”

“Well, you’re his _boyfriend_ aren’t you?” Ruth spits the word out, gesturing to Isak rudely.

Eskild just smiles. “No ma’am. In fact, I’m the social worker assigned to young Felix’s case. Shall we go inside?”

Ruth freezes, nearly losing her composure, before she merely huffs. “Fine,” she grits her teeth, stepping aside and forcing Lukas to do the same. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you,” Eskild hums, but he makes no move to enter yet. “We’re going to have a discussion—just the three of us—before coming inside, actually. Why don't you step out here?”

“I’m an old woman, and you expect me to stand out in the cold?” Ruth admonishes.

“Sit on the fucking porch swing, mormor,” Isak gestures down the porch, entirely unamused. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Watch your mouth,” Ruth chides, reluctantly making her way toward the wooden swing. Lukas follows behind her obediently, but not before making sure to bump Isak roughly along the way.

“She's a piece of work,” Eskild whispers for only Isak to hear. “We’re not going inside.”

“We aren't?” Isak swallows, relief taking over his features.

“We have to allow Felix to visit,” Eskild glances toward him, “but we don't have to go inside. I’m on your side, Isak. Remember that.”

“Thanks, Eskild,” Isak wishes he could adequately express just how grateful he is.

With a subtle nod, Eskild steps toward Isak’s grandmother. He doesn't waiver—the epitome of a confident, composed professional. Isak admires his ability to brush off the blatant homophobia in favor of doing his job.

“You'll have to fill out these forms for me,” Eskild says, offering out the small stack of papers and pen in his hand.

“Lukas,” Ruth looks toward her grandson, “be a doll and go get me a pen from inside.”

“He’s giving you a pen,” Isak can't help but bite out. “Don't worry, homosexuality isn't contagious.”

“Prove it,” Ruth takes the papers from Eskild from the bottom corner, far enough that she has no chance of touching him.

“I’ll go get you a pen,” Lukas leans down, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“When am I going to see my great-grandson?” Ruth asks, settling the papers on her lap. “This is supposed to be a visit.”

“As soon as the forms are filled out and you answer a few basic questions, Isak’s friends will bring him up from the car,” Eskild says. “To make Felix more comfortable, we’ll be staying outside.”

“I can't take him inside to see his new home?” Ruth frowns.

“That sort of conversation won't be allowed,” Eskild warns. “Especially around Felix. If you or anyone else says something like that, then I’ll be forced to end the visit.”

“Sure,” Ruth says.

“It’s part of the paperwork I gave you,” Eskild adds. “You're not allowed to attempt to bribe or influence Felix into wanting to stay here.”

Ruth presses her lips into a thin line, “Fine.”

Lukas finally comes back outside, passing the pen to her. “What are these forms anyways?” He asks skeptically.

“They’re just to confirm that you acknowledge that Felix did come for the visit, and inform you of the rules,” Eskild explains. “If the rules are broken, then the visit will be cut short.”

“We won't break any rules,” Ruth says in a sickly sweet tone, quickly scribbling her signature at the bottom. “Now where’s the boy?”

In a mildly reluctant manner, Eskild waves toward the car for the boys to bring Felix up.

Felix walks up the driveway slowly, clinging to Jonas’ hand. He has big eyes when they get to the porch, and he hides behind Isak’s legs as soon as he’s close enough.

“This is Felix,” Isak mumbles, “my nephew.”

“My great-grandson,” Ruth corrects, stretching a hand out and waving Felix forward. “Come here, boy.”

“No!” Felix yells, staying firm in his place.

“Well, aren't you a sweetheart,” Ruth says sarcastically. “You clearly haven't learned any manners. I’ll change that quickly.”

“He has fine manners,” Isak says fiercely, “he just chooses to use them with people who deserve them.”

Ruth looks at Jonas and Mahdi, and laughs softly. “Right. He surely has great manners being raised by a homosexual man, and his Mexican and African friends.”

“That isn't appropriate,” Eskild cuts in, voice stern.

“Well, I’m only pointing it out,” Ruth shrugs, pointing toward Magnus. “That boy right there, he looks like an amazing role model for my great-grandson. What's your name?”

“Uh,” Magnus shifts on his feet, his eyes a little wide. “Magnus?”

“And a good Norwegian name to match!” Ruth exclaims, clasping her hands together. “Yes, you're welcome to visit anytime you want.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Magnus says warily.

“I want to go home,” Felix whimpers, tugging on the bottom of Isak’s shirt. “I don't like this.”

“It’s alright,” Isak soothes, managing to rest a hand against his back. “I won't let anything happen, bug. They just want to meet you.”

“You shouldn't coddle him,” Ruth criticizes.

“Your grandfather and I—”

“You're the last person I’m going to take advice about raising a child from,” Isak cuts her off, not wanting to hear anymore. “You fucked us up.”

“We took you in when no one else wanted you,” Ruth points a wrinkled finger his way, “and look at what we got for that? Two grandchildren who disrespect us, and who choose to indulge in evil, disgusting ways of life!”

Isak’s temper finally boils over. “You think you did us a favor? You actually think that I should feel thankful for all of the shit you put me through?”

“You've always been dramatic, just like your mother,” Ruth scoffs. “I should have known you'd sin like her, too.”

Isak moves to take a step toward her, but Jonas grabs his arm and anchors him in place before he can.

“It's not worth it, bro,” Jonas mutters.

And he knows that his friend is right, because verbally assaulting an elderly woman certainly won't look good in a custody case, but he wants nothing more than to release fifteen years worth of resentment.

“I’m going to the car,” Isak says, deciding to remove himself before he does something that he’ll regret in the long run. He wants to support Felix, but he also has to consider the limits of his own will power.

When he moves to walk away, Lukas makes sure that he's right in his path. Isak tries to step around him, but he’s stopped by a large hand against his chest. “I’m not doing this with you,” he says lowly.

A mischievous smirk plays on Lukas’ lips. “You always were a fucking pussy, even as kids.”

“Lukas,” Isak’s voice is low and warning.

“What? You don't want your friends to know that?” Lukas takes a threatening step closer. “Do they think you're better than that? That you have an ounce of masculinity in you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Lukas stares at him for a few moments, before suddenly breaking into a grin. “Holy shit,” he realizes, “they don't know about this.”

Isak doesn't respond.

“Hey boys,” Lukas calls, looking over Isak’s shoulder. Isak spares a glance behind him, and is surprised to find Magnus, Mahdi and Jonas standing right behind him. “Do you want to know something fun about your little pal Isak?”

“I think we’re good,” Magnus says, but it falls on deaf ears.

Isak has never been particularly open about his childhood, to say the least. While he’ll indulge Jonas and share stories from when they first met in grade school, he’s never given them any other information. Whenever the topic of family gets brought up, Isak is quick to shut down the conversation.

Although the boys have always been curious about Isak’s early life, none of them want to hear about it from this asshole.

“My _little brother_ here,” Lukas jerks his thumb in Isak’s direction, “was the family disappointment—still is the family disappointment. That’s why he was always the one with bruises.”

“I’m the happiest one in the family now though,” Isak bites back.

“He couldn't take a hit like a man, so he would cry like a little girl for hours,” Lukas cackles. “Lea was more of a brother than him, at least she knew how to _try_ to hit back, but then she went and got herself knocked up.”

“She's fucking dead,” Isak says, fury boiling beneath his skin. “Do you really have to drag her into this?”

“Remember that time she smacked you in front of mormor so that she’d be allowed to go to that concert?” Lukas asks, a lazy smirk on his face.

Lukas shrugs. His eyes are cold when they meet Isak’s. “I never cared anyways. Both of you fucked off to live in sin.”

Suddenly Isak straightens, looking Lukas dead in the eyes.

“Do you remember Nikolai Johansen, Lukas?” Isak asks, his voice eerily calm despite his tense form. “Do you remember that fun little game you used to play in the treehouse?”

Lukas’ fist connects with Isak’s nose before Isak can even get the last word out. Isak stumbles back, caught off guard, but shakes it off quickly. When Lukas goes to take another swing, there's a hand grabbing his fist.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Jonas says, grip tightening.

“You want to defend a fucking fa-“

Lukas never gets to finish his sentence. There’s a sickening crunch as Jonas’ head makes contact with Lukas’.

When Lukas falls to the ground, cursing loudly from the pain, fifteen years worth of anger comes to the surface for Isak. He dives down after him, both of them throwing blows and wrestling around in the grass.

Isak doesn't register the pain, or the blood, or the yelling of anyone around him. He's so focused on finally unleashing the rage he's kept inside for so long, that nothing can rein him in but his own satisfaction.

It feels good, is the thing. They’re fucking brawling in the lawn of his grandmother’s house, his childhood home, and it feels absolutely fantastic.

Isak manages to pin him down, his chest heaving with excursion. “Do you remember—” he lowers his voice for only Lukas to hear, “how you kissed him? How you'd sneak out when you thought everyone was sleeping to see him?”

He grunts as he takes a consequential knee to the stomach, the force enough to knock the wind out of him.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Lukas spits as he maneuvers himself above Isak, their noses mere inches apart. “I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.”

“You don't remember?” Isak coughs, squirming underneath him. He glares with as much force as he can muster, getting a nice elbow on him in the process. “Well I do, Lukas. And I’ll never forget.”

Everything after that is something close to a blur. He’s simultaneously delivering and receiving punches, while people shout above him and try to pry them apart. It's only when he hears someone yell, “Felix is in the car, Isak!” that he snaps out of it.

Isak finally stops resisting the hands pulling him back, and allows himself to be pulled a few feet away. He pants, his eyes not leaving Lukas who looks just as battered as he feels.

“You're a fucking faggot,” Lukas groans, pressing a hand to the side of his temple.

“And you're a fucking hypocrite,” Isak stumbles to his feet, feeling slightly woozy as he does. Magnus and Mahdi are at either side of him an instant, holding him upright.

He doesn't wait to see Lukas’ reaction to the honest response. Instead he turns and lets his friends help him to the car, while Eskild discusses something with Ruth.

“Pappa!” Felix scrambles toward Isak as soon as he gets into the backseat. His little face is twisted with concern as he takes in the sight of Isak and Jonas.

“I’m alright,” Isak cringes. The metallic taste pooling in his mouth makes him want to gag.

“You were being naughty,” Felix says solemnly. “Fighting is bad.”

“It is,” Isak agrees, “but I was only play fighting—like what actors do in movies.”

“Then why is your face all broken?” Felix narrows his eyes.

 _When did this kid get so fucking perceptive?_ “It's not broken, there’s only a little blood,” he corrects. “And there were… rocks in the grass.”

“The important thing, kid,” Jonas tells Felix from Isak’s other side, “is that the other guy’s face is a lot more broken than ours.”

“Cool,” Felix grins.

“Not cool,” Isak corrects, glaring at Jonas. “Fuck—fighting is bad. Don't fight.”

“Don't fight unless you know you can take the guy,” Jonas nods. “Otherwise you'll wind up with the more broken face.”

“Don’t fight _ever,_ ” Isak stresses the word, “because that's not okay.”

Felix blinks. “But you just did it!”

Isak’s head hurts too much for this. “I’m a grownup, so I can do what I want. You're a kid, who can't.”

“Hmph,” Felix puffs his cheeks up with air, surveying his uncles.

“Put your headphones back on and watch your show,” Isak tells him, gesturing to the paused video on the tablet.

He gives Felix a look to be sure he knows that the conversation is over, and leans his head back against the headrest. He shuts his eyes, sighing heavily as his adrenaline fades, and the exhaustion and pain begin to set in.

He can hear the crunch of the gravel as Eskild opens the car door, settling into the driver’s seat. His face contorts into a pitiful expression when he turns around, really seeing the damage that had been done.

“I’m so fucking sorry Isak. This was my fault. I made you go.”

Isak wipes his mouth with the back of his less-injured hand, forcing his eyes open to peer at the crimson streak left behind. “It’s not your fault,” he winces. “They’re assholes who convinced a judge that they’re not.”

“You both look awful. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Eskild presses his lips together. “We could say it was a bar fight. Your nose could be broken.”

“You’re a social worker and you want us to lie to hospital workers?” Isak’s bloodied lips quirk up ever so slightly. “Isn't that illegal?”

“We would report it to the police tomorrow morning,” Eskild’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white.

“I’m not worried about reporting it to anyone. I’ll definitely do that,” he exhales, “I just don't need to go to the hospital.”

“Bro, that cut looks deep,” Magnus chimes, peering at Isak’s knuckles. “I can see your bone!”

“It's a scratch,” Isak denies, moving his hand out of sight.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Eskild decides, “and we’re going to make a statement about everything that happened.”

“I don't need—”

“You do,” Jonas cuts in from beside him. He sways a little when he tries to lean forward, and places a hand on the back of the seat to steady himself. “So do I. I think I might have a concussion.”

“Man, why the fuck did you headbutt him?” Mahdi asks. “You should have gone for an elbow. You aren't in a fucking action movie.”

“I was in the heat of the moment, I don't know,” Jonas groans. “I don't regret it. The fucker deserved what he got.”

“Your grandmother tried to kiss me on the cheek as we left,” Magnus pulls a disgusted face.

“You're white, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Of course she did,” Isak mutters. “She’s got a thing for young Norwegian poster boys.”

“Like a _thing?_ Ugh,” Magnus gags, his whole body shuddering.

“Is this going to count against me in court?” Isak asks, the reality of the everything that had just transpired setting in. “Fuck—did I fuck everything up?”

“No,” Eskild assures. “Lukas threw the first punch, and you have four witnesses here who can attest to that. Everything you did counts as self-defense.”

Isak slumps back in relief.

“But,” Eskild presses his lips together, “I do recommend that you testify against them.”

“I can't,” Isak says immediately, shaking his head. “I don't want to bring up all of that shit.”

“So what he said,” Jonas begins warily, “it was true?”

“You have a brother?” Magnus blurts.

“Not that we care,” Mahdi adds, “you don't have to tell us. It would be helpful, though.”

“Everything he said was true,” Isak confirms. “He's my brother.”

“Why didn’t he live with you and Lea?” Jonas asks.

“My grandparents kicked Lea and I out when I was five,” he shrugs. “I told them I had a crush on a boy, and Lea was already… making some poor choices.”

“You lived with them until you were five?”

“We got taken by child services after I was born. My mamma had a breakdown in the hospital, and my pappa fucked off,” Isak fiddles with the strap of the seat belt. “So they took us in.”

“I never knew you had a brother,” Jonas shakes his head. “Why didn't you ever talk about him?”

Isak gives Jonas an incredulous look. “Did you see what just happened? I don't even like to remember that I have a brother. He was part of the reason my childhood was a living hell.”

“Did they ever hurt you? As in... physically?” Mahdi asks hesitantly.

Isak glances toward Felix, and then refocuses his gaze on the boys. “It wasn't a good life,” he says, not wanting to say too much around his nephew. “Child services let us fall through the cracks. Which is exactly why I refuse to lose Felix to them.”

“How bad was it?” Eskild whispers.

Isak’s eyes wander toward Felix again. He watches the steady rise and fall of the small boy’s chest, and when he’s certain that he’s asleep, he breathes in and out slowly, his breath shaking.

“It was bad,” he finally says. “I think at one point she might have been an alright person, but then my grandfather passed away when I was two, and she threw herself into the church. She became obsessed, like she is now.”

“You said that we—child services—let you fall through the cracks,” Eskild’s voice breaks. “Emotional abuse can be easy to miss, but physical abuse…”

Isak finds strength in the respectful, patient silence that follows “She would smack us around and hit us. And then eventually, my brother started doing similar things, probably to get on her good side. Lea was older, and she learned how to defend herself, but I was the youngest and the smallest.”

“And no one ever found out about it? No one filed reports?” Eskild sounds close to tears.

“Not everyone cares as much as you do, Eskild,” Isak says softly. “Sometimes, people prefer to overlook the right thing because they'd rather do the easiest thing.”

Those words linger in the air for the rest of the ride to the hospital.

-

The hospital’s Emergency Room waiting room is practically empty when they arrive. They stand out in the worst way—five men, two of whom are bloodied, and a small child scattered about the seats.

He’s ready to tell Eskild that they should just drive back to Oslo rather than continuing to waste their time when a nurse in light pink scrubs appears and calls, “Valtersen?”

Isak rises slowly, looking back toward his friends. “You all wait here, I’ll be back out soon.”

“No way. I’m coming back with you,” Jonas says, standing up. He sways the moment he’s on his feet, and winds up flopping back into the chair behind him.

“You need to get checked out too. I’m fine.”

“I want to come,” Felix murmurs, his tiny voice laced with exhaustion.

Eskild shakes his head, “I don't think you should go back with Issy right now, bubba.”

“But I love Pappa, Esky. You can’t love someone and leave them alone when they’re hurting.”

Isak blames the possible head trauma for the tears that pool in his eyes. Felix is the sweetest fucking kid in the world, and he knows that every parent says that, but he’s certain it’s true.

“Come on, bug,” Isak nods. When he looks toward Eskild again, he finds that the older man’s eyes are misty too. Hell—all of them are near tears because of his nephew’s pure little heart.

Felix slides off the chair eagerly, placing a hand as far up on Isak’s back as he can. “Don't worry,” he tells him, “I’ll hold your hand like you do when I have to get shots.”

Isak really doesn't deserve this kid. “Thanks, bug.”

-

Once the X-rays and tests are done, Isak settles down in the hospital bed to wait for the doctor. He hopes that he can get the results, some stitches and be out within an hour, but knowing the typically slow pace hospitals, it’s unlikely.

Felix is curled up on the bed beside him dozing off, and Isak is left to mindlessly flick through the channels on the television. Maybe he should have let the boys and Eskild come back with him, but he didn't want them worrying and fussing over him. Plus, the less people that see him in the awful hospital gown he’d been forced into, the better.

His phone starts to buzz in the pocket of his discarded jeans, and he groans softly. With no small amount of pain he reaches for his pants, fishing around semi-blindly until he grabs his phone.

It’s Even. Of course it’s Even.

They’d planned their fucking FaceTime date for this time—when Isak thought he would be back at the hotel and looking to forget the afternoon—and now he has to decide between ignoring him and risking hurting his feelings, or answering and explaining everything.

There’s no way he wants Even seeing him like this, nor does he have the energy to explain, so he moves his thumb to hit the decline button.

Right as he does, Felix squirms into a new position that has him resting against his ribs. The sharp, sudden stab of pain has Isak hissing, and unintentionally pressing the accept button.

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

“Isak?” Even’s face appears, and goes from grinning to horror in a mere second. “How’s Berg—what the fuck?”

“Hi, Even,” Isak glances toward the small image of himself in the corner of his screen. His face is a mess of both fresh and dried blood, with a few deep cuts accenting his mangled nose. His eyes are already bruising.

“Are you safe?” Even asks quickly.

“I’m safe,” Isak assures. “I had a little disagreement with one of my family members, is all. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” Even echoes, frowning. “It looks like a pretty big deal to me. Are you at the hospital right now?”

“No,” Isak lies.

Even stares at him in silence for a beat, before he says, “So if I text Magnus right now and ask him…”

“I’m at the hospital,” Isak amends, knowing that his friend would likely blab the truth before Even got the chance to ask. “But it's really not a big deal. I only need a few stitches.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” Even seems satisfied enough with that, but there's still a wariness about him. “Does it hurt bad?”

“It hurts a lot,” Isak isn't too prideful to admit that.

Even finally cracks a small smile, “I hope the other guy looks worse, though.”

“He does,” Isak lets out a quiet laugh. “I had a little help from Jonas to make sure.”

“Good,” Even nods.

“I’m sorry that our FaceTime date isn't as sexy or—romantic as you might have imagined,” Isak angles the camera so that Even can see Felix too. “Our third wheel is back again.”

“Are you kidding?” Even earnestly leans closer to the camera. “This is perfectly sexy and romantic for me.”

“How?” Isak turns the camera back toward himself, resting his head back against the pillows.

“Well, little children are the epitome of romance—”

Isak snorts.

“And hospital gowns are the sexiest outfit in the world,” Even continues, wiggling his brows playfully. “They have open backs, Isak.”

“You're such a fucking dork,” Isak says fondly, laughing once again. This time it's a little too much for his ribs to handle, and he winds up grimacing.

“Don't laugh anymore,” Even sits back in his chair again. “I think you might have broken some ribs though. Mikael did that when we were twelve, and he was the same way.”

“How do you break ribs when you're twelve?” Isak wonders.

Even’s lips quirk into a small smirk. “You know how they have those metal bars at skate parks for people to do tricks on?”

“Yeah.”

“He saw a pretty boy and decided he wanted to show off,” Even says. “Keep in mind that this is only his second time on a skateboard. So he tries to do this weird jump, and winds up crashing into the bar. He made us tell the doctor he landed it and then lost his balance, though.”

“Did the boy at least notice him?” Isak asks, amused.

“No,” Even shakes his head. “He left before he saw any of it.”

“That's rough.”

“And not nearly as badass as getting into a fight,” Even responds. “I didn't take you for the fighting type.”

“I’m not, definitely not,” Isak says quickly. “My brother just has this way of bringing out the worst in me, I guess.”

“Brothers can do that,” Even agrees.

“You have a brother?” Isak asks.

“Well—no,” Even smiles sheepishly. “I have an adoptive sister, she's the one who had my nieces. But I do have a cousin who got under my skin like a brother.”

“Brothers are the worst,” Isak says with a soft huff. “Be glad you don't have to deal with one.”

“I’m happy to have my sister,” Even nods. He studies Isak again, “Are you waiting for the doctor?”

“Yeah,” Isak yawns. “They ran tests to make sure I don't have internal bleeding or broken bones. It’s all a bit much, but Eskild insisted.”

“I can't wait to meet Eskild,” Even grins. “He seems like a good guy.”

“He is,” Isak nods slightly, yawning again. “You know,” he says softly, “I hate hospitals.”

“You do?” Even’s face goes serious once again. “You seem alright right now.”

“Because I am,” Isak’s eyes flutter shut. “I hate hospitals, and I have since I was a kid, but you make them bearable. I think that means I love you.”

“Does it?” Even asks, sounding amused but interested.

“Yeah,” Isak hums sleepily. “You make me feel… stuff. I really think I love you.”

He lets himself drift off to the sound of Even’s voice saying, “I think I love you too, Isak.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (tw for: homophobia and homophobic language, descriptions of a fist fight, and brief discussions of past emotional and physical abuse)
> 
> and yes. as always, thank you josie.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is an extra long chapter—the longest one yet—with zero angst to make up for putting you all through the rollercoaster that was chapter seven. i hope you all enjoy!!! (and as per usual thank you to my favorite aussie for being my beta/friend xx)

After a rather awkward phone call with his boss explaining the events of the weekend, Isak gets permission to take the week off; which means he gets to take Felix to his football practice on Wednesday evening. While he wishes he could say he was excited for the extra time with his nephew, he was selfishly looking forward to seeing Even in person again.

They had settled for quick texts after their FaceTime call on Saturday—most of which involved Even sending random memes to try and cheer him up, or asking for updates on how he was feeling.

In truth, Isak was still feeling like hell. As soon as he was out of the hospital and off the meds they'd given him that first night, the pain set in. He’d hoped that any bruising would be minor, but his face had since turned awful shades of purple.

Nonetheless, he was determined to act casual. He ignores the blatant gawking of the other parents when he arrives, alternating his gaze between Felix and Even throughout the 90 minute practice.

Felix rushes over as soon as it's over, little Aksel Larsen right behind him. They’re holding hands, and if it were any other kid, Isak might have found it more cute. “Pappa! Did you see me kick into the goal?”

“I did,” Isak nods, giving him an encouraging smile. “It was great.”

“Felix is the best,” Aksel brags, swinging their arms rather wildly. “He can kick farther than anybody else, even though he's only five!”

Isak barely manages to suppress a laugh. “Yeah? Well that's really great, too.”

Felix blushes from the praise, giggling giddily. “Can we go play a teeny bit more?”

“As long as Aksel’s parents are okay with it,” Isak agrees, “but only for a few minutes while I speak to Coach Even.”

“Ooo!” Both boys say at the same time, Felix adding some exaggerated kissing noises.

Isak steadies him with The Look. “Where did you learn that?”

“Uncle Magnus.”

“Figures,” Isak mutters to himself. To the boys, he says, “Go and play. I’ll have a talk with Uncle Magnus later.”

Felix and Aksel run back onto the field together—still holding hands, mind you—and Isak takes the opportunity to slowly wander his way over to Even. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, waiting for him to finish his conversation with one of the other parents.

“Hey,” he says when Even is finally on his own.

“Hi,” Even smiles, though it falters some when he takes in the state of Isak’s face. “You look rough.”

“Geez, thanks,” Isak ducks his head down.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Even carefully places two fingers under his chin, tilting his head back up. “You're always beautiful. It just looks really painful.”

“Does it still hurt?” Even asks, studying the damage closely.

“That’s what Advil is for,” Isak says seriously.

Even’s brows draw together, concern painting his features. “And you walked here?”

Isak forces out a laugh. “I’m fine. Really. It hurts sometimes, but I can handle walking a few blocks home.”

Even shakes his head, “I’m not letting you walk home alone when you're in pain.”

“I won't be alone,” Isak reminds, “I’ll have Felix with me.”

“And Felix is going to know what to do if you collapse?”

“I’m not going to collapse.”

Even merely shrugs. “People collapse from pain all the time. I’m a coach, I would know. I’ll just walk you home to make sure everything is fine.”

“You're going to walk me home?”

“For health and safety concerns,” Even gently tugs on one of his curls, a small smirk appearing. “It'd be a shame for such good hair to go to waste.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Asshole,” he says, yet there’s nothing but fondness in his voice. “Let me get Felix and then we can head home.”

“Wait,” Even slowly brings his hand down so that it’s cupping the back of Isak’s neck. He presses a sweet kiss to his lips, lingering for a few moments, and finally pulling back.

“What was that for?” Isak asks.

Even steps back, quirking a brow. “Because I wanted to.”

Isak’s cheeks burn. “Right. Uh—”

“Go get Felix,” Even prompts, laughing softly.

Isak manages to nod, turning in the direction of the kids. His heart is still hammering in his chest, the way it somehow always seems to when Even is around. “Felix!” He calls.

“What?” Felix yells back.

Isak takes a few steps toward the field, waving him over. “Say goodbye to Aksel, we’re going home!”

Felix’s shoulders slump dramatically, but he nonetheless wraps his arms around Aksel in a big goodbye hug. Aksel lifts Felix a few inches off his feet as they embrace, earning plenty of giggles from Felix.

“They're cute, aren't they?” Even has moved up to stand beside him, and gives him a soft nudge. “Young love.”

“Everyone says love,” Isak says bitterly. “I wouldn't call it love. They're too young for love.”

“It’s puppy love,” Even hums quietly. “I think it's adorable.”

And, alright. Isak supposes that it's maybe a little bit cute. The two boys are staggering around with their arms still secured around one another, with expressions of glee written all over their faces. Isak’s heart swells.

Isak has just started to let a grin creep up when Felix (or Aksel? He can't really tell from this far off the field) leans in and presses a quick peck to the others lips. Not cute. Not cute at all.

“Felix Valtersen!”

Felix turns his way sheepishly, an expression of guilt on his face. He says something to Aksel and then quickly makes his way over to Isak.

Isak is ready to lash out, but before he can, none other than Emma Larsen’s shrill voice cuts him off.

“Isak Valtersen!”

“Fuck,” Isak mutters.

Emma is fuming as she stomps over to him, her eyes blazing. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Isak asks nervously, deciding to play dumb. “I didn't see anything. I was talking to Even here.”

Emma crosses her arms, glaring. “You just yelled for Felix.”

“Did I?” Isak swallows. “I guess I did. I was just, uh—telling him that it was time to go home.”

“So it had nothing to do with the kiss?” Emma challenges.

Isak sighs, his dumb façade dropping.

“It might have,” he mutters.

“What are you going to do about it?” She asks.

Isak frowns. “What am I going to do about it? I've already had a conversation with Felix about this.”

“How did you already have a conversation about this with him?” Emma stares at Isak, finally groaning. “You already knew! I told Josefine this wasn't the first time.”

“Well, I told them it wasn't okay!” Isak defends. “I didn't see the point in telling you when I had things handled.”

“Clearly, you didn't have things handled,” Emma snaps. “This isn't okay, Isak. They’re little children, and it’s inappropriate.”

“Obviously it's not okay,” he says hotly. “I’m not stupid.”

“I like kissing Aksel,” Felix pipes up unhelpfully. “It's fun.”

“Felix,” Isak hisses.

“What?” Felix asks innocently.

“Nothing, honey,” Emma says sweetly. To Isak, she says, “We’ll continue this conversation when the kids aren't around.”

“I look forward to it,” he says dryly, taking Felix’s hand.

“Bye, Emma,” Even adds, holding his hand up in farewell. Until then, Isak had honestly forgotten that he was still standing there. Emma waves reluctantly, before turning on her heel to head back to Josefine and Aksel.

“I told you no more kissing,” Isak says to Felix as soon as Emma is out of earshot. “Why didn't you listen?”

“I forgot?”

Isak levels him with a stern expression. “Would you care to try again?”

Felix mutely shakes his head.

“You can think about it in your room when we get home,” Isak mutters, starting to walk.

Felix’s lip starts to wobble, but before he can get the real tears going, Even cuts in. “Hey, Felix, want to play a game? I bet I can spot more flowers than you on the walk home.”

Just like that, Felix eagerly begins pointing out every flower he can spot—including some imaginary ones. Not only is Isak spared from dealing with a tantrum during the twenty minute walk home, but he has yet another reason to be completely enamored by Even.

In spite of the rough start to their walk home, it turns out to be rather pleasant. They start to hold hands at some point, and Isak doesn't give the touch a second thought. Being with Even is so natural, and it’s everything that Isak knows he doesn't deserve.

The root of everything is in the way that he seamlessly balances small talk with Isak and encouraging Felix each time he claims to have found another flower. It’s in the way that he doesn't get annoyed when they have to stop (three times) so that Felix can have his shoes re-tied.

Even fits with them, and it’s fucking terrifying, because Isak is starting to associate him with _home._

It’s not as if Isak doesn't recognize how ridiculous it all is; he can count the number of real dates they've been on with one hand and they've already exchanged the L-word. It’s all happening too fast, but—

But his heart doesn't care.

His inner turmoil is interrupted when he realizes that they’ve already reached his apartment door. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door, reminding Felix that he’s to go straight to his bedroom. It’s a pleasant surprise when he does so without protest or tears.

“I think this is the part where you give me a goodbye kiss,” Even says, raising his brows suggestively.

Isak presses his lips together, “And what if I don't want to say goodbye yet?”

“Well, as nice as your apartment building is, I don't think your neighbors would appreciate me camping out in the hallway,” Even chuckles.

“You can come in if you want? The boys won’t bite,” Isak pauses, before playfully adding, “much.”

Even smiles, but makes no move to come inside. “I don't want to intrude.”

“Even,” Isak raises his brows. “The boys fucking love you, Felix loves you… I love you. You're never an intruder around here.”

“Do I hear Even?” Magnus’ frazzled form appears at the end of the hall. “Even, man! Hey!”

“Hi Magnus,” Even steps inside, appearing amused. “Is that an apron?”

Magnus looks down at the frilly, multi-colored apron, nodding. “Yeah! I’m trying to bake today, I need to practice. I have two days to figure out how to bake a birthday cake.”

Even tilts his head slightly. “Whose birthday is it for?”

_Fuck._

“No one’s,” Isak says quickly, ushering Magnus back into the kitchen. “Just—Magnus’ family cat is turning eight or something.”

Magnus looks bewildered. “What the fuck, bro? It's your birthday on Friday! Remember? And Zeus is six, by the way.”

“Mags, seriously?” Isak hisses.

Magnus blinks. “Did I say something wrong?”

“What?” Even raises his brows at Isak as he follows them. “You were going to let me miss your birthday?”

“I—” Isak clears his throat. “I forgot?”

“You forgot?” Even is clearly fighting a smirk. “Well, it's a good thing that Magnus reminded both of us.”

“We’re going to take him out,” Magnus brightens up. “You should come with us!”

“No,” Isak blurts. It takes both of them turning his way before he realizes how that sounds. “I mean—I wouldn't want to subject Even to your terrible drunk dance moves.”

“Excuse me?” Magnus asks, offended. “I have fucking amazing dance moves? The chicks dig them.”

“Right,” Isak says dryly, “that’s why they stay as far away from you as possible whenever we go out.”

“That's not the point!” Magnus gestures toward Even. “The point is that he should come with us on your birthday night out.”

“If you don't want me to come, that's fine,” Even cuts in, smiling soothingly. He’s leaning casually against the counter, and somehow still looks like a model. “It’s your birthday, and you’d probably rather celebrate with your friends.”

“I want to spend it with you too,” Isak insists, “I just don't want them to be embarrassing like they always are.”

“Hey!” Magnus frowns. “I heard that.”

“I know,” Isak says pointedly.

“Maybe we can chill on Saturday instead?” Even offers. “Or if you think you'll be too hungover for that…”

“You should come,” Isak licks his lips nervously. “I think it'd be nice.”

“Yeah?” Even asks.

“Yeah,” Isak nods, meeting his eyes.

“Great,” Even grins, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you on Friday.”

Isak’s brows furrow. “But you just got here?”

“I know,” Even nods, already backing up into the hallway. “I have to get you a birthday present now, though.”

Isak scrambles after him, getting into the hall just as Even reaches the front door. “Even—”

“I’ll see you on Friday,” Even repeats with a wink, opening up the door. He walks out and shuts it behind him before Isak he protest.

-

He startles awake on Friday to the feeling of a little knee bumping him where it hurts the most. Isak groans out from the pain, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. “What the fuck?”

“Issy!” The shout is accompanied by two semi-sticky palms pressing against either of his cheeks. “Wake up! It's your birthday!”

Isak forces himself to open his eyes, yearning for nothing more than to go back to sleep. His body aches and his head already hurts, but Felix looks so excited that he knows he has to play along. “Is it really?” He manages.

Felix nods eagerly, giving him a beaming smile. “And I made you breakfast all by myself,” he boasts.

“You did?” Isak yawns. “You're not supposed to be in the kitchen on your own.”

“Well, Uncle Jonas helped a teeny bit,” Felix admits, snuggling up to Isak. “But I did all the mixing.”

“Thank you,” Isak says, smoothing a hand down his back. “What did you make?”

“It's a surprise!”

“A surprise, huh?” Isak sits up slowly, taking Felix with them. When they're settled upright, he easily scoops Felix into his arms bridal style, tickling his stomach. “Are you sure you can't tell me?”

Felix giggles, his legs kicking as he tries to squirm away. “Nooo!”

“Are you sure?” Isak tries again, smiling fondly. He carries on with the tickles, blowing a raspberry into Felix’s cheek while he does.

“It's waffles!” Felix finally squeals out, his cheeks bright red from all of the laughter. “Stop, Issy!”

Isak stands up with Felix still in his arms, allowing his nephew to catch his breath. “Let’s go and eat, then.”

He walks them to the kitchen, hovering in the doorway to take in the sight of Jonas flitting around the kitchen with his hair pulled back into a half-bun, half-Pebbles from the Flinstones hairstyle. He’s wearing the same apron Magnus had been the other day, and is singing a fucking Disney song under his breath.

The scene is so entirely domestic and fundamentally not Jonas that Isak can't help but let out a small snort.

Jonas whirls around, his eyes widening slightly when he spots Isak. “Hey bro,” he says, hiding the spatula behind is back. “Uh—you're up early.”

“I am,” he nods, carrying Felix toward the table. “I had a little someone climb into my bed and remind me that it’s my birthday.”

“Felix,” Jonas sighs, “I told you not to wake him up.”

Felix pouts, letting Isak set him down into a seat at the table. “But I’m hungry, and you said we couldn't eat until he was awake!”

Jonas looks back toward Isak, “I did say that,” he relents, “but I didn't think he would do that.”

“It’s fine,” Isak assures. “I can sleep in on Sunday. I’m looking forward to these waffles Felix was talking about.”

“He told you about that too?” Jonas slowly lets his arm fall back to his side. “Shit. It was going to be a surprise.”

“Do you really think I care that I know what I’m having for breakfast now?” Isak rolls his eyes, sitting down beside Felix. “It's fine. Thank you for helping Felix make it—although he did all of the real work.”

Jonas grabs two plates off the counter, carrying them over to him and Felix. “He was a big help,” he nods. “So what do you want to do today? I sent Magnus and Mahdi out on a few errands, but they should be back any minute. Then the real fun can get started.”

Isak shrugs, taking a bite. “I’ll probably get started on the adoption paperwork. I’m officially of the eligible age.”

Jonas stares at him blankly. “That's how you want to spend your birthday? Filling out forms?”

“It’s important,” Isak says. “The sooner I fill them out and apply, the sooner I don't have to worry about losing him.”

“Eskild already told you-—”

“I know what Eskild said,” Isak presses his lips together, “but I also know that things can happen, and I’m not going to risk anything.”

“I’m not letting you spend your twentieth birthday filling out paperwork,” Jonas says. “You can do that tomorrow and then submit it on Monday. It’s going to be the weekend, so nothing will happen until then anyways.”

Which is true, although Isak wishes it weren't. There was a time when a night out with the boys would have been ideal, but now he dreads the mere thought of it.

“We can't drink and get wild with Felix around,” he points out. “Maybe we can spend the day at the park or something.”

Jonas smirks, “Don't worry about Felix. The boys and I have a plan.”

“How am I supposed to not worry when you have that look on your face?’ Isak shakes his head, taking another bite of waffle. Once he swallows, he says, “Whatever you're thinking, it's not a good idea.”

“It's a perfect idea, actually,” Jonas corrects, joining them at the table with his own breakfast. “You'll see.”

“I’m scared.”

Jonas merely shrugs. “Have a little faith, man. We don't fuck up everything, you know.”

“You were late to your own party every time you hosted one!” Isak reminds.

“I was young and dumb then—”

“It was barely two years ago.”

“Oh come here,” Jonas says, holding his arms out. “Happy birthday brother.”

Isak leans over, hugging Jonas as best he can't without actually bothering to stand up. “Thanks,” he says softly. “For all of this.”

“Don't get all emotional on me yet,” Jonas laughs, his own voice thick. “Save it for when we’re drunk.”

“I’m not getting wasted tonight,” Isak gives him a serious look as he pulls back. “I can't. Felix has his football game tomorrow, and we’re not showing up hungover again.”

“Nobody will know if you put sunglasses on, bro,” Jonas says. “It's your birthday. Let loose.”

“Jonas.”

“Fine,” Jonas sighs in resignation. “I guess I should cancel the stripper too, if you're going to be such a stick in the mud all night.”

Isak’s eyes widen. “What the fuck, Jonas? A stripper? Are you fucking serious?”

“He was going to give you a lap dance and everything,” Jonas nods. “But since you're in one of your grumpy moods today…”

“What’s a stripper?” Felix pipes up.

Isak shoots Jonas a glare before turning to Felix. “It's a special kind of dancer,” he says, “who dances for adults.”

“And makes a shit load of money,” Jonas adds.

“That sounds cool! I want to be a stripper when I grow up!” Felix says excitedly.

“You can't,” Isak deadpans.

“But—” Felix sticks his lip out.

“No.”

“Don't be so harsh on the kid,” Jonas teases. “Stripping is a decent way to make a living.”

“Fuck off,” Isak groans. “Seriously. You need to stop teaching him shit like this.”

The last thing he needs is for Felix to start blurting things out that not even Eskild can ignore—like Felix’s dream career shifting from a football player/astronaut to a fucking stripper.

“I’m messing around, lighten up,” Jonas rolls his eyes. “If he ever tries stripping, I’ll drag him out of the fucking club myself.”

Isak merely narrows his eyes his way while he takes another bite of his waffle.

“I was joking, by the way,” Jonas adds. “There wasn't going to be a stripper coming here today.”

“Thank fuck,” Isak mutters.

“Yeah,” Jonas takes a sip of orange juice. “He cancelled a few days ago. He said he got some sort of stomach bug and wouldn't be able to make it.”

“You're such a fucking asshole.”

-

He spends the morning watching cartoons with Felix and getting started on the adoption paperwork. It’s going to take longer than he had anticipated—there’s fifteen pages worth of initial forms alone—but he’s happy that he can finally get started on it.

Although Eskild has assured him countless times that he has nothing to worry about, he can't help but fret about the Bergen cult managing to twist the situation around and take custody of Felix. The sooner that he has actual court approved validation in the form of permanent custody, the better.

Isak is getting ready to start on the fourth page when there’s a knock on the door. “Jonas!” He calls.

“I’m pissing, bro! You answer it!”

Isak groans, reluctantly setting the paperwork down onto the table. He stands up, heading toward the door and opening it with an annoyed expression.

The girls are standing in the doorway. Vilde, Eva, Sana, Noora and Chris are all at his apartment.

“Jonas!” He shouts down the hall.

“Happy birthday, Isabell,” Sana says as she brushes by him, inviting herself into the house. The rest of the girls follow behind her.

“Thanks, Sanasol,” Isak mutters, shutting the door.

It’s not that Isak dislikes the girls. He loves them really, deep down. It’s just, considering it’s his birthday and everything, he knows exactly what their arrival is going to bring.

“Aunties!” Felix squeals giddily as soon as he sees them, scampering to his feet. He rushes into Chris’ waiting arms first, giggling.

“Afternoon munchkin!” Chris says, running her fingers through his hair. “Look at you, getting all big and strong.”

“I want a turn!” Vilde holds arms out expectantly. “Felix gives the best cuddles.”

“You can have your turn as soon as I get mine,” Noora squeezes in front of Vilde, lifting Felix out of Chris’ arms.

Eva steps forward, giving Felix a kiss on the forehead, and Noora a brief peck on the lips. “You really are getting so big now, kiddo. But you're already more handsome than Uncle Isak.”

“I’m right here,” Isak reminds grumpily. “Plus it's my birthday.”

Felix looks between Eva and Noora. “Are you girlfriends?” He asks, his legs swinging mindlessly.

Eva nods. “We are. We’ve been girlfriends for three years.”

“That's a long time,” Felix loops both of his arms around Noora’s neck. “I have a boyfriend.”

“You do?” Noora’s brows instantly raise. “What's his name?”

“His name is Aksel,” Felix grins. “We kissed like boyfriends do, but then Issy got mad.”

The girls all turn to Isak.

“It's not as if I can control his actions all the time!” Isak defends, gesturing toward him. “He's—I—”

“Aksel, you said?” Noora prompts Felix, setting him down.

“Mhmm!” Felix rushes to the table where he had abandoned his coloring. He scribbles something into the corner of the paper using a crayon, and proudly shows it to them. “That's how you spell it!”

Isak peeks over, and sees the fairly well-done A, followed by a series of scribbles. Nonetheless, the girls praise him for his efforts.

“That kid gives me the fucking creeps,” Magnus shudders from his spot on the couch.

“You're scared of a small child?” Sana crosses her arms.

“Yes,” Magnus admits shamelessly, his eyes widening. “He has this look in his eyes, I don't know.”

“He's a nice kid,” Isak rolls his eyes. “Magnus is just fucking weird.”

Vilde crouches down beside Felix, “Is your boyfriend a good kisser?’ She asks earnestly.

“Nei, Vilde!” Noora snaps. “Don't encourage that! He’s too young.”

Vilde blinks, “Well, I was only asking!”

“I want to meet Aksel,” Eva says with an amused smile. She turns toward the others, “It’s so cute, isn't it? Young love.”

“They're not in love,” Isak grumbles. “Felix is five and Aksel is six.”

“Maybe they'll get married someday,” Noora hums, leaning forward so that she can drape her arms around Eva from her spot on the couch. “That would be such a sweet story, wouldn't it? Childhood boyfriends turned husbands.”

“No one is getting married to anyone,” Isak groans, flopping back against the cushions. “Why the fuck does everyone keep saying that?”

“Since when are you such an overprotective pappa bear?” Eva teases.

“Why does everyone insist on having him grow up so quickly?” Isak fires back, his lip jutting out on its own accord. “I want him to have a good childhood, that's all. Boyfriends, or girlfriends, or whatever the hell he wants can wait until he's older. Much older.”

“Relax,” Jonas rolls his eyes, walking into the room somewhere in the middle of Isak’s rant. “Fuck. It's your birthday and you're still stressed.”

“It comes with being a dad,” Isak says, the words tumbling out before he can properly think them through.

The silence that follows is deafening.

It’s just that Isak is a dad now. He’s fucking responsible for a little human—he’s trying to adopt a little human! He’s quite possibly the least qualified person to be trying to take care of a child, and yet he feels like a father.

And, honestly, what the fuck?

“Pappa is the best dad ever!” Felix chimes, perking up. He gives his uncles an expectant look, waiting for them to chime in.

“Pappa?” Vilde blurts.

“Dad?” Eva adds.

Isak swallows. He clears his throat. He opens his mouth, willing words to just magically appear, but he's speechless. He can feel tears pooling in his eyes, the product of Felix’s words.

“He's pretty great,” Jonas finally agrees, stepping toward Felix. He lifts him up off of the ground, giving him a small smile.

“No,” Felix frowns, shaking his head insistently. “He’s the best ever! He always plays with me, and he snuggles me, and—and he never ever yells at me.”

Isak hates crying in front of people, but now he can't hold back. The tears fall, and his heart feels like it's overflowing with love. “C’mere, bug.”

Felix squirms in Jonas’ arms, rushing over to Isak as soon as he’s set down. He scrambles up onto his lap, peers at his wet cheeks, and uses his tiny little hands to swipe the wetness away.

“Don't cry,” he says sweetly. “It’s a waste of water!”

Isak can't help but laugh, “Who told you that?”

“Eskild.”

“Figures,” Isak nods, nuzzling his face into Felix’s wild curls. “I love you,” he whispers, choosing to pretend that there aren't seven other people in the room with them.

“I love you the mostest!” Felix beams.

Isak lifts his head and shakes it solemnly, wrapping his arms around him more securely. “No,” he says, “I love you the mostest.”

Before Felix can protest, he stands up with him in his arms. He easily switches his grip so that he’s holding Felix by his legs, and carefully lets the boy dangle upside down.

“Hey!” Felix squeals, giggling rapidly. “Pappa, I’m upside down!”

“Are you?” Isak feigns confusion, glancing over his shoulder toward Jonas. “Doesn't Felix always wear his shoes on his head?”

Jonas nods, seeming to understand that this is Isak’s effort at changing the subject. “I think he does.”

“Nooo! Shoes are for your feet!” Felix wiggles his feet for emphasis, still laughing.

Isak pretends to think about it for a moment, and then finally lets out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh! Felix, what are you doing upside down?”

“Issy!” Felix can hardly breathe with the force of his laughter. “You put me here!”

“I don't think so,” Isak teases, somehow managing to scoop him up bridal style without dropping him.

“You did!” Felix insists. “Uncle Jonas, tell him!”

“I don't know, kiddo. I don't think I remember,” Jonas shrugs, smirking.

Isak sets his nephew back on his feet, his hand already starting to ache. It was a stupid move on his part to lift Felix like that with stitches and bruised ribs, but he figures the joy on his face was worth it.

“We have everything handled,” Noora says to Jonas and Isak. “You both should go and get ready for your night out.”

Isak hesitates. “Are you sure? Sometimes he won’t go to sleep unless you read him a few stories, and you have to do the voices properly. Maybe we could wait until his bedtime—”

“Are you doubting us, Isak?” Sana stares at him with narrowed eyes. “Do you think that we’re incompetent? That we can’t take care of a child?”

Isak’s mouth suddenly feels as though it’s been stuffed full of cotton. “Well… I…”

“We can do this!” Vilde says brightly. “I have a little cousin, so I know what to do.”

“How old is your cousin?” Eva asks.

“Thirteen.”

Isak groans. He trusts the girls, but that’s certainly enough to put some doubt into his mind. “A five-year-old is a lot different from a teenager, Vilde.”

Vilde gives him an offended look. “I know that!”

Isak shares a look with Jonas, and when his friend only offers him a shrug, he sighs. “Felix, I’ll see you later tonight. Be good for your aunts.”

-

Even arrives in the midst of Isak and Jonas pregaming. Magnus had gone out ahead of them to pick up Mahdi from work, while Jonas insisted Isak and he get the party started.

Although they're a long way from being drunk, they’re undoubtedly tipsy. Isak had always been a lightweight, but having a kid and not being able to drink often had made him an even bigger one. He’s barely a beer and a half in, and he’s feeling it.

“Even!” Isak cheers when the other man walks into the kitchen, setting his bottle down. “Come give me a kiss, you sexy hunk.”

“Hi, Isak,” Even laughs, walking over. He gives him a quick peck and then settles down into the chair beside him. “You're having fun, I see.”

“Fuck yeah,” he raises the beer bottle up to his lips, taking a swig. “It's my fucking birthday.”

“I know,” Even leans back. “Happy birthday.”

“Bro,” Jonas tugs on Isak’s sleeve, drawing his attention away from Even. “I need to ask—what the fuck were you saying earlier? You called yourself a dad?

“Felix calls me pappa,” Isak shrugs with one shoulder. “I feel like a dad.”

“It's one thing when Felix says it,” Jonas tilts his beer in Isak’s direction. “It's another thing when you say it.”

Isak glances toward Even, taking in the obviously confused look on his face. “Remember when I told you—” he says to Even, letting out a small hiccup. “That Felix wasn't mine?”

Even nods slowly. “You're his uncle. Right?”

“Right,” Jonas breaks in. “Isak hasn't fucked a chick. Ever.”

“I’m so fucking gay,” Isak agrees, momentarily losing his train of thought. “Like—the gayest.”

“Good to know,” Even says, chuckling quietly. “I’m pan, for the record.”

“But the point is,” Isak leans forward, bracing himself with his elbows on the table. “Felix is my son. He's my fucking son. I’m a dad.”

Even nods in understanding, “You love him like a son.”

“I love him like a son!” Isak echoes, far louder than intended.

“You love him like a son, bro! He's your son!” Jonas slams his hand down onto the table. “This calls for another fucking drink!”

Even laughs, looking between them. “Maybe you should drink some water instead. I don't think they’ll let you into the club if you're already drunk.”

“Good point,” Jonas nods, moving his gaze back to Isak. “You're fucking lucky, man. You got a smart one.”

Isak looks to Even with a proud grin. “Yeah, I am,” he agrees.

Even chuckles, standing up and heading to the fridge. He grabs two bottles of water out for them, sliding them to either boy. “Drink up. We’ll head out once they're empty.”

Obediently, both Isak and Jonas begin to sip away.

-

The bass is pounding in the club, and he swears he can feel it in his bones. It gives him a buzz that he forgot was possibly, adrenaline already pumping through his veins.

Then a sweaty, messy-drunk girl bumps into his shoulder, splashing his shirt with some sort of alcoholic beverage, and he remembers exactly why this isn't his scene.

He’d agreed to going out for the boys’ sakes, because he knows that this is exactly what they love, but he’s already regretting that decision. He should have bribed Felix into pretending he was sick, or even pretended that he was sick himself.

Anything seems better than spending the rest of his night (time he could be using to actually fucking sleep for once) in a crowded, noisy, smelly club.

But then Even steps closer to him from behind, and those thoughts vanish.

The boys have already made a beeline for the bar, but Isak lingers back near the edge of the dance floor where he feels like he can actually breathe. He thought that Even had gone with them, but the grip he has on his hips says otherwise.

Even tries to say something, but the music's fucking loud, and Isak is a little too tipsy to read his lips. He taps his ear, trying to tell him that he can't understand him, and gives him a confused expression.

Without hesitating, Even leans down and closer to him. His lips graze the shell of Isak’s ear as he says, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Isak glances toward the dance floor, but can't spot the boys. He looks back toward Even, manages a nod, and reaches for his hand. He’ll send Jonas a text from the cab—he's not going to waste time looking for them.

He lets Even lead them out of the noisy club and onto the less noisy (but equally dirty) street outside. As they wait for a cab, he subconsciously leans into Even’s side, desperate for the closeness.

Even presses a soft kiss to his temple, “How drunk are you?”

Isak considers the question for a moment. “Not too drunk. I drank a shit ton of water. Mostly tipsy.”

“Me too,” Even trails his hand a little lower down his back. “Are you too drunk to consent?”

“No,” Isak rushes out, because even if the question has thrown him off, he's not going to risk giving Even any sort of doubt, “I’m definitely sober enough to consent.”

Satisfied, Even gives him a smirk. “Then I think we should head home and properly celebrate your birthday, hmm?”

“Felix is at the kollektiv,” Isak says with a small cringe. Of all the things to say, he had to choose the biggest turnoff.

“That's alright,” Even studies his face closely. “Maybe you could come to mine instead, if you're comfortable with that.”

He doesn't know who leans in first, but there's a blur where Isak mutters something close to “fuck yeah,” before their lips collide. It's not like any of their past kisses—there's no delicacy. It’s all feverish movements, with nothing but want and passion behind it.

Before they can actually start stripping in the middle of the street, a cab pulls up to the curb. They stumble into the backseat, and Isak winds up sprawled half-upright, and yet somehow sprawled across Even’s lap.

“Comfortable?” Even asks, an amused grin working at his lips.

“I think your bed will be better,” Isak says, tapping Even’s thigh gently, “but this is fine for now.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he rummages it out to make sure it's not one of the girls.

**Jonas-**

_broooo wtf where r u_

_u can't ditch us this early we just got here_

_txt me back so i know ur not dead in the alley_

_wait nvm even’s gone too_

_use protection !!!_

“Someone important?” Even asks, fingers teasing along the waistband of Isak’s pants. “Maybe a secret boyfriend I should know about?”

“Fuck no. This isn't a fucking romance novel,” Isak snorts, “or one of those fanfiction stories that people write about celebrities.”

“Fair enough,” Even chuckles lightly. “Although I was looking forward to dramatically kicking you out of the cab.”

“It’s Jonas,” Isak explains, rolling his eyes. “If you kicked me out over him, this relationship would never last. He's always blowing up my phone.”

“I’m not intimidated by Jonas,” Even shrugs.”I trust you. I wouldn't be taking you home right now if I didn't.”

Isak stares at Even, his lips parted in utter awe for a brief pause. Finally, he mutters, “Would you want this if we were totally sober?”

Even gives him a look, “I think it's pretty clear that we’re barely tipsy now, Isak—and I definitely still want this. Do you?”

“Of course,” Isak says quickly.

“Then there’s your answer,” Even trails his fingers up Isak’s stomach, until his hand is pressed flat against his chest. “You haven't been to my apartment yet.”

Isak makes a soft hum of agreement. “You could be a fucking creep for all I know.”

“I’m not,” Even assures, face going serious. “I would never do anything that you were uncomfortable with.”

Isak nods gently, “I know.”

“If we get to mind and you change your mind—”

“Even,” Isak interrupts. If he wasn't completely sober before, he certainly is now. “I want this. I want you. And if I change my mind, I know you'll stop. I hope you know that I’ll stop too. That’s the point.”

“This is your place,” the driver says from the front, coughing into his fist. “Get out.”

Isak sits up, getting out of the car slowly. He offers his hand out to Even, helping him out too. “Let’s go inside?”

“Let’s go inside,” Even agrees.

-

The rest of the night is all tangled sheets and sweaty limbs, with heat and passion burning in the air. It’s the best birthday that Isak has ever had.

-

Isak wakes up to an ache in his lower body, and an arm secured around his torso. The sheets smell like standard laundry detergent rather than the lavender scented stuff Eskild always brings around.

He cracks one eye open slowly, daring to peek over his shoulder, and the memories of last night come rushing back to him when he comes face-to-face with Even’s chest.

Even shifts slowly, seeming to feel Isak stirring in his arms. “Good morning,” he murmurs, blinking his eyes open. His voice is low and gravelly, and it makes Isak’s heart flutter.

“Morning,”

“Are you feeling okay?” Even asks, reaching a hand up to carefully tuck a loose strand of hair away from Isak’s face. “Sore?”

Isak’s lips part. He wants to give him a normal response, to act chill, but instead he winds up saying, “I’m sorry for staying the night.”

Even’s brows furrow, “Why?”

“Isn't that how these things go? We… you know…” Isak trails off, like he’s twelve and not a full grown fucking man. “And then I’m supposed to sneak out so we don't have to do the awkward wake up thing the next morning.”

“Isak,” Even smiles, completely endeared. “I’m not a one night stand, or a fuck buddy, or anything like that. I’m your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Isak swallows.

Even chuckles quietly. “Sorry, that one slipped out. I'd like it if you were, but we can wait that out,” he assures. “We’re definitely dating though, right?”

“Right,” Isak manages a jerky little nod.

“That means that you always have to stick around for post-sex cuddles,” Even leans down, placing a sweet kiss to his lips. “It's mandatory.”

“It is?” Isak murmurs, rolling over to properly face him.

“Mhmm,” Even whispers. “And so is pretending to like your birthday present when I give it to you, even if you hate it.”

Isak leans their foreheads together, nudging their noses softly. “I could never hate anything that you give me,” he says surely.

“Be careful,” Even traces his hand along Isak’s side. “You might regret that someday.”

They kiss again, for a long time. It’s strange not to have any interruptions or obligations to force them from the moment—they savor one another, and it’s beautiful.

Eventually they part. A small stream of sunlight leaks in from a gap between Even’s yellow curtains, and his eyes glimmer as they catch the light.

“Do you want your present now?” Even asks, giving his hip a squeeze.

“Alright,” Isak says, admittedly wary. “I wish you hadn't bought me something, though.”

“I didn't buy it. I made it.”

Isak sits up, resting back against the headboard. “I forgot that you're the artsy, geeky type.”

Even grins unabashedly, reaching into his nightstand drawer. He pulls out a picture frame, offering it out to Isak.

“I didn't see that last night when we were looking for lu—”

“Just take it,” Even rolls his eyes, laughing.

So Isak does.

He flips it around slowly, admittedly surprised to find a sketch in the frame. It’s a drawing of him, Felix, and Even; the three of them curled up in bed together like they had been when Felix had his cold.

The fact that Even took the time to do something like this for him—and that he included Felix—fills him with sheer adoration and awe.

“You drew this?” He murmurs, brushing his thumb along the frame. “It’s amazing, Even.”

“I realized that we haven't taken any photos together,” Even says, “and I figured that would be a good temporary solution.”

“I love it,” Isak lifts his gaze to meet Even’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Isak,” Even reaches for his free hand, loosely intertwining their fingers. “And I meant what I said last night. I’d really love to be able to call you my boyfriend.”

Isak presses his tongue against the back of his teeth for a moment, before he says, “Okay.”

Even can't keep the look of shock off of his face. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Isak leans in, his lips only an inch from Even’s. “Let’s be boyfriends.”

He kisses Even again, and he can't help but feel that it’s the start of something special.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter marks 50k which is crazy?? i've never written anything this long before, but it's definitely been a lot of fun!! i really can't thank you all enough for showing this fic so much love and support. it means a lot to me <3 also (as always) thanks to josie aka the handyman for fixing this chapter up for me!!!!

_INCOMING CALL: LEA VALTERSEN_

_Isak is finishing up an assignment when his phone rings. He glances toward the screen, and is filled with simultaneous dread and annoyance when he reads the caller ID._

_He hesitates, doubting whether he should bother answering at all, but ultimately decides against ignoring her call. If something happened to Felix and he blew her off, he would never forgive himself._

_“Yes, Lea?” He answers with a heavy sigh._

_“I need you to watch Felix tonight,” Lea says, foregoing any pleasantries. “I’m going out.”_

_“I have a life,” Isak groans into the phone, lifting his laptop off his lap and onto the bed beside him. “I can't drop everything to watch your kid for you.”_

_“I’m your big sister,” Lea says pointedly, “and he's your nephew. Family looks out for family.”_

_Isak snorts._

_“Isak,” Lea sighs heavily. “Please.”_

_He narrows his eyes at the ceiling, hating himself for the tug of sympathy in his heart. She just sounds so desperate, and he’s never been good at saying no to her._

_“Why do you need me to watch him?” He finally asks. “I’m not going to babysit him while you go out.”_

_“I’m working tonight—”_

_“Since when do you have a job?”_

_He can practically hear the eye roll accompanying her words as she asks, “Does it really matter?”_

_“Yes,” Isak says, “it does. Like I said, I’m not watching your kid so that you can go out and get wasted.”_

_“I deserve to have fun,” Lea snaps. Although her sudden mood change isn't out of character, it still stings._

_“Why don't you try being a fucking mother?” Isak sits himself up. “I’m not watching Felix tonight. I have two exams to study for, and I can’t deal with a crying kid tonight.”_

_“You love Felix.”_

_“I love Felix,” he agrees, “but that doesn't mean it's my responsibility to take care of him whenever you don't want to.”_

_“Fuck you,” Lea mutters._

_“I’ll pass,” Isak retorts dryly, “incest is fucking gross.”_

_Lea makes a frustrated noise—something between a grunt and a small scream—and a loud slam soon follows. “Dammit, Isak! He's your nephew, your family. You need to step up.”_

_“I need to step up?” Isak laughs incredulously. “You should try being grateful for all the help I give you instead of throwing a fit when I can't take him.”_

_Lea falls silent, and after a few moments Isak wonders if she’s hung up the phone on him. Then she suddenly says, “I’m going to have fun tonight, even if you won't take him.”_

_Which of course makes Isak falter. He knows she's not bluffing, but he doesn't know what kind of fun Lea is implying. She’s always been wild, and he can only hope that she doesn't get ahead of herself._

_“Don't be fucking stupid,” he says. ‘I don't want anything to happen to you or Felix,’ he means._

_“You really won't watch him for me?”_

_Isak flops back against his mattress, shutting his eyes in sheer frustration. It would be too easy to cave in and agree to watch Felix for her, but he knows that resigning will only encourage behaviors like this in the long run. “I have to study.”_

_“Alright,” Lea concedes, voice bitter. “I’ll spend another night alone, then.”_

_“Lea—”_

_“I don't ask you for much,” she continues, “but it’s fine that you can't do me this one favor. I won't hold it against you.”_

_“I do a lot for you,” Isak mumbles, his resolve crumbling. He feels like an asshole. Why the hell does he feel like an asshole?_

_Fuck Lea and her fucking mind games._

_“I’m not going to take your kid for the night so that you can go out and binge drink,” he clears his throat, trying to recollect himself. “Felix doesn't deserve that.”_

_“He’s four, it's not like he knows any better,” Lea grumbles. “You're seriously not going to take him?”_

_Her response is all the confirmation he needs that her plans certainly didn't include the job she initially claimed to have. She was trying to use him as a free babysitter; one who she knew wouldn't call the police if she stayed out too late. The last time Isak had agreed to take Felix for an overnight stay, he wound up spending four nights in Isak’s room after Lea conveniently forgot to tell him that she was going to a music festival with her friends._

_“I’m really not going to take him,” he confirms. It’s an empowering moment; the first time he’s ever truly stuck up to his sister._

_“You're some brother,” she laughs humorlessly, “Felix is really just so lucky to have you for an uncle.”_

_On another day, Isak might have fallen victim to her guilt trip. Today though, he’s strong enough to hold his ground. Maybe it's the exhaustion from dealing with one of his mamma’s episodes last night, or the pressure of his upcoming exams, but his patience is gone and he’s determined to hold his ground._

_“I’m not dealing with this tonight,” Isak says. “Spend time with your son.”_

_“Fuck off,” Lea spits._

_Isak presses his lips together firmly, his grip on the phone tightening. “I love you,” he murmurs._

_Lea hangs up without responding._

-

A part of him will always regret that phone call.

-

It’s the 25th of June.

Up until two years ago, the date was entirely mundane—he probably spent most of it playing video games with Jonas, or trying to sneak quick naps in during his classes at Nissen.

Now, it marks the second anniversary of Lea’s death.

There’s a distinct ache in his chest that comes with the significance of the date, leaving him feeling as though someone has a tightening grip on his heart.

He can feel the beginnings of a throbbing headache at his temple, and even sitting up in bed seems to take far more energy than normal. He forces himself downstairs nonetheless, and drinks two coffees in an attempt to snap himself out of this funk. It leaves an awful taste in his mouth, and does nothing to numb his heart.

Put simply: it’s going to be a long day.

He finds himself dozing off at the kitchen table intermittently in the hours that follow, trying desperately to calm his mind. He’s restless and irritable, so when he hears footsteps alerting him to someone approaching, it only worsens his mood.

Isak opens his eyes reluctantly, sighing heavily when he spots Mahdi and Magnus a few feet away. They’re staring at him strangely, and it only makes him more tense.

“What?” He grunts.

“Why aren't you dressed?” Mahdi asks, frowning. “We need to leave for the game in five minutes, bro.”

“I’m not going to the game,” Isak mutters, pushing his chair away from the table roughly. The loud, furious scrape echoes through the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” Magnus asks incredulously, hovering behind Mahdi. “You have to come! Jonas is bringing beer again just to piss off that obnoxious mother—”

“I’m not coming,” Isak says gruffly, brushing by them to get to the fridge. “I’m not up for it.”

“What's your deal?” Mahdi raises his brows. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?”

Isak shoots him a look over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he says wryly, “something like that.”

“Jonas,” Magnus calls over his shoulder, “Isak is in one of his moods. Come snap him out of it, please.”

Isak slams a mug down onto the counter, more forcefully than he should have. It breaks apart in his grip, the ceramic shards scattering about the countertop and onto the floor.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“You!” Isak snaps. “You're all my fucking problem!”

Magnus gets a wounded expression on his face, like a puppy who just had their tail stepped on. “What did we do?”

Isak’s fists clench. He doesn't realize he’s still holding a broken piece of the mug until it cuts deep into his palm. “Fuck. Off.”

Jonas steps around Magnus and Mahdi and into the kitchen, his own eyes slightly wide. Isak doesn't know how much he's heard, and frankly, he doesn't care.

“Bro,” Jonas says. “Chill.”

Isak can't suppress his rage any longer. He turns toward Jonas, shoving him back roughly. “I said fuck off!”

Jonas stumbles back, caught off guard by the sudden burst of aggression, but he doesn't make any move to leave. Both Mahdi and Magnus step up on either side of him, clearly ready to hold him back if need be.

Yet Jonas doesn't try to retaliate. He leans against the counter now pressing into his back, staring at Isak with an unreadable look in his eyes. “Are you going to tell us what the fuck this is about now that you're done throwing your little tantrum?”

Isak firmly locks his jaw, gritting his teeth to try to control the rage that has bubbled up inside of him.

“We need to leave for Felix’s game,” Magnus reminds. “We’re going to be late.”

“For the last fucking time, I’m not going to the game!”

His knees give out from underneath him, as he stumbles back, hitting the kitchen counter. “I’m not going to the fucking game,” he whispers, using his back to sink down to the floor, caving in on himself.

“Isak!” Jonas quickly moves forward, dropping onto his knees beside him. “You don't have to go to the game—fuck, bro. Just tell us what’s going on. Please.”

“Two years,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face. He wipes them away furiously, hands shaking as he does.

Instant realization washes over Jonas’ face, and he pales. “Shit,” he whispers, “it's the 25th.”

“I can't deal with anything today,” Isak says, his words sounding like a desperate plea. “I can't.”

Jonas looks back at Magnus and Mahdi, their faces clicking when they realize what today is.

“Fuck, we’re sorry, man,” Mahdi adds, a horrified expression on his face. “We wouldn't have been pushing you if we had known.”

“It’s fine,” Isak says quietly.

“It's not,” Jonas says firmly. “We were being assholes and we should have remembered.”

Isak doesn't have enough energy to deny that.

“You need to go back to bed and sleep,” Jonas places a hand on his arm. “Have you eaten anything?”

“I had a few cups of coffee,” Isak mumbles, sniffing. He uses the sleeve of his sweatshirt to swipe away the residual tears.

“Mags,” Jonas nods toward the fridge. “Can you make some eggs or something for him?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Jonas gives him a pointed look, standing up. “You need to eat.”

“You're not my mother,” Isak says, nonetheless letting Jonas help him up.

“No,” Jonas shrugs. “I’m your best friend. And I’m telling you that you need to go lay down and wait for me to bring you breakfast.”

“You'll be late to the game,” Isak reasons, shifting on his feet.

“I’ll text Mikael so he can let Even know we’re running a few minutes behind. He won't care.”

“Jonas—”

“Go,” Jonas lifts a spatula out of the drawer, pointing it his way for emphasis. “Otherwise Magnus will carry you, and we know how well that turned out the last time.”

“I still have that scar, man,” Magnus chimes with a wince.

“Okay,” Isak runs a hand back through his hair, yawning. He’s too exhausted to protest further. “Thank you.”

“It’s what family is for,” Jonas tells him with a slight smile.

Isak leaves the room before they can see him cry again.

-

He only manages to sleep for an hour before the deep ache of his heart wakes him up. Isak winds up spending the better part of the morning curled up on the couch, watching some shitty reality TV program.

When the boys arrive back from Felix’s game he can hear the front door open, and mutes the television. He’s expecting Felix to rush in and tell him about his day, but instead Jonas approaches him.

“It’s probably not the right time,” Jonas says sheepishly, gesturing over Isak’s head, “but you have a visitor.”

Isak turns to see Even standing in the doorway, and offers him a half-hearted wave. “Hey,” he murmurs. He can quite muster up a smile, but he really is grateful to see him.

“The boys said you weren't up for seeing anyone, but I wanted to check up on you. I got worried when you weren't at the game today.” Even says, slowly making his way over. Jonas casually exits the room at the same time, giving Even a subtle thumbs up as he goes.

“You don't have to be worried about me,” Isak says, cheeks heating. “It’s just one of those days.”

Even nods in understanding, watching him closely. “It doesn't have to do with—what we did, right? I didn't hurt you, or make you feel uncomfortable?”

“What?” Isak blinks in surprise. “Fuck, no. I loved that. My shit mood has nothing to do with that, I promise. That night was amazing.”

“Good,” Even visibly relaxes, sitting down on the couch beside him. “Is it something that you want to talk about?”

Isak hesitates.

“You don't have to,” Even adds quickly. “If you want to though, you can. I don't mind.”

Isak shuts his eyes momentarily, weighing his options. Even is grounding. He’s safe. He’s become a constant in his life. He’s proven over and over again that he’s trustworthy, and Isak knows that he owes it to him to explain.

“It's, uh—” he coughs softly, “two years since my sister…”

“Oh,” Even’s face falls. “Are you okay?”

“I guess,” Isak puffs his cheeks up with air, releasing it slowly. “I don't even know how I feel anymore. My chest feels like a black hole.”

Even doesn't say anything more, but he does reach an arm over so that he can drape it around Isak’s shoulders. The gesture is subtle yet meaningful, and not for the first time Isak is reminded exactly why he loves him.

“Do you want to come somewhere with me?” Isak asks eventually, slowly opening one eye. His words are timid.

“Sure,” Even nods. “Where are we going?”

Isak presses his tongue against the back of his teeth, exhaling deeply. “The graveyard,” he mumbles as he stands up.

“The graveyard?”

Isak digs his blunt nails into his palms. The cut from earlier stings from irritation, but the pain doesn't phase him. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “You're going to meet my sister.”

-

They walk in silence.

Isak holds Felix’s hand while the boys and Even linger a few paces back. He doesn't have enough energy to tell them, but knowing that they're with him means the world.

He buys cheap flowers from a sketchy looking man on the side of the street. The petals are wilted and the stems are tinted brown. He thinks they're pretty fitting for Lea.

“Where are we going?” Felix asks eventually. He’s been occupied dodging the cracks in the sidewalk, but his curiosity has finally distracted him.

Isak licks his lips, his steps faltering. “We’re, uh—we’re going to visit your mamma, bug.”

Felix frowns. “We can't go up there,” he says, pointing a tiny finger toward the sky.

The pure innocence behind his words makes Isak feel as though someone has ripped his heart out. It’s entirely unfair for such a good kid to have to deal with a shitty situation like this.

“Do you remember last year, when we went to that special stone with mamma’s name on it?” He tries, unsure of how else to explain things.

Felix’s face scrunches up. “No.”

“Okay,” Isak sighs. “Well—that’s where we’re going.”

“Why?”

Isak’s beginning to wonder the same thing. “Because we can talk to mamma when we’re there.”

Felix perks up. “Like a telephone?”

“Sort of,” Isak says. “Mamma can't talk back to us, but she can hear you.”

“Cool,” Felix breathes, hopping over another crack in the pavement.

Isak feels a hand on his shoulder, and glances to his left. Jonas is right there, giving him a sad smile and encouraging squeeze on the shoulder.

“You're doing great, man,” Jonas tells him softly. “We’re right here, alright?”

“Yeah,” Isak hates that he already sounds choked up. “Thanks.”

When they reach the iron gates marking the entrance to the cemetery, he nearly freezes up momentarily. He has to remind himself that Even and the boys are by his side before his feet actually begin to work. He guides Felix through the rows of graves until they finally reach Lea’s—specially marked by the worn, mostly destroyed sticker that Felix had stuck on there during last year’s visit.

He tosses the flowers haphazardly onto the ground in front of the tombstone, because he's a coward who can't bring himself to look at the engraved words.

Felix grips his hand, but is generally unbothered. He’s still so naive, and Isak already dreads the day that he’ll lose that innocence.

“Do you have anything you want to say to mamma?” Isak asks, pressing his lips together. He tries to keep the spite and sorrow out of his tone.

“She’ll really hear it?” Felix asks skeptically.

Isak nods, biting down on the inside of his cheek.

Felix slowly releases Isak’s hand, squatting down beside the grave. He places a tiny hand on the stone just under Lea’s name, and then leans forward to press a soft kiss to it.

He whispers something that Isak can't quite decipher, giggling as he does. Then he stands up again, peeking over at Isak. “You should give mamma a kiss, too.”

“I—” Isak’s heart leaps into his throat. “I think I’m good, kid.”

Felix crosses his arms, “You'll make her sad.”

 _Mamma is dead_ , Isak wants to remind him, but he’s not heartless enough to go through with it. He begrudgingly leans down, awkwardly patting the stone and giving it a quick peck. He feels ridiculous and uncomfortable, but when he notices the way Felix lights up, he can't be upset.

Silently, he reaches toward Felix and pulls his nephew into a tight hug. After a moment, he feels a pair of arms wrap around him, then another, followed by two more. He doesn't even have to open his eyes to know that the boys have come together with them in a group hug.

It’s a reminder that they’re more than friends—they’re family—and it means everything to him.

When they break apart, Magnus crouches down to Felix’s height. “Hey bud, do you want to go and get some ice cream?”

“Yeah!” Felix nods quickly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He really is oblivious to the emotional of the day, and Isak envies him for that.

“Mags,” Isak gives his friend a look.“Seriously? I’m really not up for—”

“We’ve got him,” Jonas cuts in, gently ruffling Felix’s hair. “You and Even can spend the rest of the day together.”

“I don't know,” Isak says warily. “I probably shouldn't leave him today.”

“Isak,” Jonas gestures toward Felix. “He's fine. The only thing that's going to be hard on him today is if he sees that you're sad.”

Isak still hesitates. “You'll call me if he gets upset?”

Jonas nods.

“Alright,” Isak looks toward Felix first, and then the boys. “As long as you're sure.”

“We’re sure.”

Even steps toward him, placing a hand on the small of his back. The gesture is more comforting than it should be.

“Come give me another hug,” Isak holds an arm out for Felix, pulling him in once he’s close enough. “I’ll see you around dinner time, alright? Be good for your uncles.”

“I will!” Felix says, reaching out for Jonas’ hand. Isak watches them all go, the hint of a smile floating over his face.

-

They arrive to Even’s apartment, and it’s exactly as he remembers it. He shouldn't be so surprised really, but he was tipsy and hungover the last he was there and couldn't be sure what was

Even toes his shoes off near the bed, laying down on top of the covers. He spreads one arm out beside him, giving Isak an expectant look. “Come on. We’re having a cuddle.”

“A cuddle?” Isak murmurs. “You think a cuddle will help?”

“I _know_ that a cuddle will help,” Even says confidently. “Whenever I come off of one of my manic episodes, I crash hard. Cuddles always help, though.”

And so cuddling ensues.

Isak winds up lying on his stomach with his head resting against Even’s chest, while Even lays on his back and holds him close. They fit together so nicely, with their legs interlocked and breathing synched.

If perfection existed, Isak is certain that this would be it.

“Can't I stay here with you forever?” Isak murmurs. “Can I?”

Even brushes his fingers carefully through Isak’s hair, his lips quirking into a small smile. “You can,” he says sincerely.

He looks into Isak’s eyes, dipping his head closer. Both of them shut their eyes when their noses lightly brush, savoring the intimacy between them. They spend the next few minutes balancing feverish kisses and intertwined limbs, until Isak finally parts to catch his breath again.

“We always end up like this,” he notes breathlessly, resting their foreheads together. “I think we've spent more time cuddling in bed together than we have on actual dates.”

“You don't count these as actual dates?” Even teases gently. “I think they're pretty great.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” Isak says bashfully. “It’s just that it’s so tempting to kiss you all the time that I don't think we know each other that well yet.”

“You're my boyfriend,” Even reminds with a gentle laugh, “and you're saying we don't know each other?”

“We know each other,” Isak says, “but not all about each other. We still have a lot to learn.”

Even catches his eyes properly. “Then tell me something that I don't know about you.”

Isak opens his mouth, but comes up blank. “Well—I’m not sure.”

“You study cosmology,” Even recalls, pulling back a few inches. “Why?”

“Why?” Isak repeats softly.

“Why do you study cosmology?” Even asks earnestly. “What makes the stars so interesting?”

Isak shakes his head slightly. “It’s not the stars, it’s—it’s the universe. It’s how small we are in the scheme of everything.”

Even hums quietly. “That doesn't freak you out?”

“No,” Isak pauses. “I guess it's always been grounding to me. Like, even if I fuck up everything in this universe, there could be an Isak in some other parallel universe that doesn't.”

“Parallel universes?” Even echoes.

“Parallel universes,” Isak’s eyes wander around the room until they settle on the curtains. “There could be another Isak and Even laying exactly like this, only the curtains are blue instead of that awful yellow.”

Even lets his hand wander down, using the backs of two fingers to gently stroke his cheek. “Doesn't that get to be too much to think about sometimes? It sounds pretty heavy.”

“ _This_ universe gets to be too much sometimes,” Isak clears his throat quietly. “Well, it used to. When Lea first, uh, passed away.”

Even’s hand stills.

“I started having really bad anxiety,” Isak takes in a shaky breath. “I would get panic attacks, and I felt—I felt pretty fucked, honestly. It was a lot all at once.”

“Does it still feel that way?”

“Some days,” Isak admits, “but it's been easier with you in my life.”

Even is silent, looking into Isak’s eyes like he's searching for something. “I’m going to tell you something,” he whispers, “that I haven't told a lot of people.”

Isak reaches for his free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“When I was fourteen,” Even begins, “I felt like the world was too much. It was a few months after I was diagnosed with bipolar, and I was put on new medications that weren't working. I thought that my friends would hate me if they knew, and that I didn't deserve my girlfriend. My head wouldn't shut off, so I went to our medicine cabinet and swallowed an entire bottle of allergy medications.”

“Fuck,” Isak breathes, his eyes widening. “Even, I’m sorry—”

“I didn't tell you that to make you feel sorry for me,” Even’s eyes are serious, his features weighted with concern. “I told you so that you know you can talk to me, because I never want anyone to go through that.  Especially you.”

“I've never thought about hurting myself,” Isak assures, intertwining their fingers. “But if I ever do, I promise to talk to you. Thank you for sharing that. It must be hard to talk about.”

“Talking about it is the easy part,” Even finally cracks a wry smile. “Remembering it? Remembering that fucked up state of mind? That's the hard part.”

“How did you—I mean, it didn't work,” Isak tries to find the right words. “Were you okay? What happened after?”

“Well, like you said, it didn't work,” Even says grimly. “As it turns out, allergy medications aren't enough to overdose on. I had to go and get my stomach pumped at the hospital when my momma found the empty bottle, and I felt pretty shitty for a while, but my heart kept beating.”

“Do you ever get those old thoughts now?” Isak asks cautiously.

“Never,” Even says. “I have a therapist, and I’m on medications that work for me. Plus, I know that I can talk to my friends and family if I’m overwhelmed. Support is the most important thing.”

“I have the boys,” Isak brushes his thumb mindlessly over Even’s knuckles. “And you.”

“What about your family?” Even asks.

“The boys are my family,” Isak says, with more bite behind it than he intends. He softens instantly, “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to snap. That’s just a sore subject.”

“Does this have anything to do with what happened in Bergen?” Even asks unphased, his eyes falling to the lingering bruise on Isak’s cheek.

“A little bit,” Isak sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “My actual family is pretty fucked up.”

“You're not close?”

Isak blinks rapidly, tears pooling in his eyes. “No. I was never close with any of them, really. Lea was the only one, but she wasn't a good person most of the time.” He laughs humorlessly. “I probably sound like an asshole saying that about a dead person.”

Even squeezes his hand compassionately. “You don't sound like an asshole, Isak. You sound like somebody who got hurt.”

“Lea was the sort of person who would tear down anything in her path to get her way,” Isak swallows, his throat tightening. “She was selfish, and didn't care about anyone but herself. But she was still my sister. I loved her—love her.”

“It must have been hard to lose her,” Even murmurs.

Isak nods, a loose tear finally falling. “It was,” he admits. “It’s still hard. I never thought I would miss her, but I do.”

“Oh, baby,” Even’s face is creased with sympathy. “Do you want to talk about her? Or about anything? It might help to remember.”

The floodgates burst open.

Isak is full-blown ugly crying in front of Even, and he hates himself for it. He’s making pitiful noises, wheezing between sobs, _and fuck Lea for fucking doing this to him, dammit!_

“I—I hate her,” he manages, his voice trembling. “I hate her, b-but I miss her.”

Even shushes him as he pulls him to his chest, securing an arm around him. “Let it out,” he soothes. “It's alright.”

“It’s not alright!” Isak snaps, breathing harshly. “None of this is alright!”

“You're right,” Even agrees, and Isak can feel him nod. “It's not alright. It fucking sucks, really. But it’s alright to let yourself cry.”

“I don't deserve it,” Isak doesn't realize the raw truth of what he’s saying until the words are out there.

“Why wouldn't you deserve it?” Even asks, confused. He pulls back enough to look at him properly, swiping some of the wetness off of his cheek.

Isak barely registers the touch as his mind takes him back to his finally conversation with his sister.

-

_He’s sprawled out on his bed with Biology flash cards on either side of him when someone pounds on the front door. The accompanying yell of “Isak!” let’s him know that it’s Lea._

_With a groan, Isak pushes himself up from the bed, reluctantly making his way down the hall. He makes sure his annoyance his obvious as he opens up the door, glaring at his sister._

_“I have roommates, Lea. And neighbors,” he hisses. “What do you want?”_

_Lea rolls her eyes, pushing Felix—who Isak hadn't noticed was with her until then—in front of her. “Felix is spending the evening with you.”_

_“No,” Isak’s jaw tightens, “he’s not. I told you earlier, I have to study. I’m trying to get into UiO, not be stuck waiting tables for the rest of my life.”_

_“Issy,” Felix steps toward his uncle, wrapping both arms around his leg. “We play games?”_

_“Not tonight, kiddo,” Isak says, glaring at Lea. “You're going to go home with mamma.”_

_“Don't listen to silly Uncle Issy,” Lea says in a sickly sweet voice. “You're spending the night with him.”_

_Isak huffs. “Lea—”_

_“Why don't we let Felix decide what he wants?” Lea gestures toward her son._

_“I want Issy!” Felix chimes quickly. “Issy, Issy, Issy!”_

_“Issy can't tonight,” he repeats tensely. “Maybe this weekend, but not tonight.”_

_Lea crosses her arms, her lips pursed. “I’m going out no matter what.”_

_“Don't say shit like that,” Isak mutters, giving her a serious look. “I’ll call the police. It's not okay.”_

_“I mean it,” she insists. “I’m going out whether or not you watch Felix. You can decide what you want to live with.”_

_Isak spent his entire life looking after his big sister—after everyone in his family, really. He would linger behind and pick up the slack, clean up the broken pieces, and generally keep things running smoothly. He could have taken Felix, he had done it countless times in the past, but he didn't._

_“I’m not watching him tonight,” he repeats. “Can't you hold off on going out until the weekend?”_

_Lea’s shoulders slump, her face obviously shocked. He's never been persistent in saying ‘no’ to her. “I want to go out tonight. All of the girls are.”_

_“Do all of the girls have kids?” Isak rubs a hand over his face tiredly. They've had the same conversations too many times, and nothing ever changes. “You need to grow up.”_

_“You don't understand—”_

_“I understand,” Isak cuts her off with a small, bitter laugh. “I understand that you want to dump your responsibilities on me because you think everyone else should take care of them for you.”_

_“That's not true,” Lea snaps, grabbing Felix’s hand._

_“It is,” Isak sighs heavily. “I love you, I love both of you, but I can't keep dealing with all of your shit for you. Figure it out.” He leans down, giving Felix a quick hug. In a soft voice, he tells him, “I love you, and I’ll see you soon.”_

_“Don’t touch my son,” Lea yanks Felix away, glaring. “You have no right.”_

_He bites his cheek to refrain from saying anything he’ll regret, and shuts the door._

_In retrospect, taking a low score on two exams wouldn't have been the end of the world; but it was the principle of finally making a decision for himself that stopped him from sacrificing his evening of studying. He wanted to feel like he had any control over his own life for once._

_He had no way of knowing that his decision would cost his sister her life._

-

“—Isak!”

Isak snaps out of the memory with a sharp gasp, his chest heaving. Even is right there, with a hand cupping his cheek and worried expression on his face.

“Fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to catch his breath again. “I’m sorry—fuck.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Even assures.

“There's too much to be sorry about,” Isak props himself up, hoping that the new angle will lessen the tightness in his chest. “I could have stopped it.”

“Stopped what?”

_Everything._

Isak merely shakes his head.

“You shouldn't bottle things up,” Even whispers, chastising but caring. “It ends up with you feeling like this, and no one being sure how to help you. Let us in, Isak. Let somebody in.”

“I’m not used to that,” Isak fists one of his hands in the duvet underneath him. “I’m not like you.”

“What does that mean?” Even asks, moving his free hand to rest it atop his.

Isak lets out a shaky breath. “I’m not good at talking to people, or—or opening up to them like you.”

“Try,” Even says patiently. “Try to tell me something, anything.”

“It was my fault,” Isak rushes out, his mouth moving ahead of his brain.

Even nods slowly, giving his hand a squeeze. “Why do you think that?”

“She asked me to watch Felix,” Isak blurts, and when he finally starts to share what’s been burdening him for two years, he can't seem to stop. “I told her no. She came to the kollektiv, she said that she would go out anyways, but I didn't believe her. I kept telling her I wouldn't watch him.”

“How did she die?” Even asks cautiously.

“She tried to drive while drunk and wrapped her car around a tree,” Isak swallows. “She didn't have her seatbelt on, and she got ejected through the front windscreen.”

Even frowns. “That’s not your fault, Isak.”

“It is,” Isak insists, “you don't understand—I could have stopped her. I could have taken Felix for the night and let her go out with her friends, but I didn't. I was being a fucking stubborn idiot.”

“It sounds more like you were standing up for yourself.”  

Isak’s lips part, but he can't come up with a response.

“You didn't owe her anything, Isak. Anyone can see how much you love Felix, and I have no doubt you spent a lot of time before your sister passed away taking care of him. She made her own decisions that night, and unfortunately, they had bad repercussions.”

“But—”

“If you would have taken him, do you think anything would have changed?” Even asks, shaking his head. “You said she was going out, so she still would have been driving under the influence.”

Isak averts his gaze down again, his heart hammering in his chest. “Felix was with her. He wasn't hurt, because he buckled himself into his car seat, but he could have been, and that's on me.”

“No.”

Isak looks back up, surprised. “What do you mean no?”

“No,” Even repeats firmly. “It’s not on you. It’s on her for driving with her son in the car while she was drunk. You didn't control her actions that night, or any other night. Why do you keep blaming yourself?”

“Lea was fucking awful most of the time,” Isak’s voice shudders, the backs of his eyes stinging again, “but she was my family—the only family I ever really had. Family looks out for family, and I didn't do that.”

“You're a good person, Isak,” Even whispers, “but that doesn't mean you can always protect someone.”

Which of course sets Isak off into another bout of tears.

It’s so unlike him to be this way—so vulnerable, teary, and soft—but Even doesn't even bat an eye. He’s right there with him through it all, patient and loving.

“I’m sorry,” Isak mumbles. “I’m not usually this much of a mess.”

“You don't have to apologize for opening up, Isak,” Even says, brushing the excess wetness away using the pad of his thumb. “Thank you for trusting me. I love you, and I’m going to do my best to help you through this.”

Isak blinks at Even through tear matted lashes. “We can take it minute by minute.”

“That works,” Even agrees, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You and me. Minute by minute.”

“Isak and Even, minute by minute,” Isak can't help but laugh. “ _That_ should be the movie you make.”

Even makes a noncommittal hum, “I think I like my one about the boy and his burnt tongue better.”

Isak rolls his eyes fondly, leaning in until their lips meet again. The sadness is still there, corrupting his heart, but it seems more bearable with Even supporting him.

(It’s funny, how he’s already finding it hard to remember what his life was like without Even—and how it's almost impossible to imagine a future without him, too.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well... this is it. we've finally reached the end of (this part of) isak and felix's journey. i want to thank every single one of you for the support you've given me and this fic, because i definitely never expected it when i started writing it. 
> 
> i also want to thank josie, because she made this fic what it is. from the first time i mentioned this idea until now, 56k words later, she has been an incredible beta/friend. we did this together, and i'm very grateful for her!
> 
> finally, i want to let you all know that while this fic is coming to an end, i WILL be writing more in this verse. i'm far too attached to the characters, and plan to explore other moments of their lives. feel free to let me know what parts of their futures you'd like to see :)
> 
> that said, i hope you all enjoy, and thank you again <3

It's Felix's last football game of the season.

Isak knows, logically, that it's nothing to be emotional about. But knowing that Felix's first ever football season is drawing to a close is a reminder of how big he's getting.

It still feels like yesterday that Isak was chasing a toddler through the halls of his mamma's house, and now there's only a few short months until he starts school. He's always heard parents say that kids grow up quickly, but he never understood what they meant until now.

He walks him down to the field, not letting go of his hand. Normally he would let him run ahead to Aksel, but he can't bring himself to let him do that today.

The thing is, he knows that one day he'll let go of Felix's hand and never hold it again. It won't be long before Felix stops viewing him as cool and decides that he's embarrassing. He wants to savor every minute of closeness with Felix that he can, before it all vanishes.

They reach the edge of the field, and while the boys start to set up their chairs, Isak kneels down in front of Felix. He pushes some stray curls back off his forehead, managing a smile.

"Have fun today," Isak says, wrapping him up in a tight hug. "I'm really proud of you, kid."

Felix nods, squirming slightly. "Can I go play with Aksel now?"

Isak can't help but laugh, releasing him. He adjusts Felix's shirt, and finally nods. "Go ahead." Before he can even finish, Felix is already sprinting toward his friend.

He stands up again, brushes the grass from his jeans, and makes his way over to the boys. Magnus is struggling to set his chair up, while Jonas is already lounging back with a beer in hand.

Isak takes a seat in the free chair that Jonas had set up for him, shaking his head at him. "You're going to piss of all of the other parents."

Jonas shrugs, unbothered. "Who gives a shit what they think?"

"Fair enough," Isak says, looking back toward Felix. His nephew and Aksel are passing a ball to one another, their smiles visible even from so far. "Do you think they'll be wind up being like us?"

Jonas follows his gaze, grinning when he spots the two young boys. "Best friends for the rest of their lives, you mean?"

Isak nods.

"Nah," Jonas says, "they'll be married by the time they're our age."

"Why does everyone always say that?" Isak groans, pressing his hands over his face. It's too much for him to think about Felix getting married someday, when he still doesn't like to admit the boy can tie his own shoelaces.

"They're adorable, man. How can you not see that?"

"I do see it," Isak admits begrudgingly. "I don't want to think that far into the future, though. I'd rather only think about the next minute."

"Excuse me?"

Isak and Jonas both look behind them at the sound of a woman's voice. While Isak doesn't know her name, he recognizes her as one of the mothers of a little girl on the team.

"Uh, _halla,_ " Isak says slowly. "Can we help you?"

"This a children's game," the mother says, gesturing toward Jonas's beer. She blatantly turns her nose up, scoffing. "You should know better than to bring alcohol here."

Jona raises a brow at her, tilting the bottle back lazily as he takes another sip. Casually, he reaches to the cooler at his side with his free hand, propping the lid open. "You want one?"

"Do I—" The woman peeks inside, getting a contemplative expression at the sight of the bottles. After a moment, she subtlety nods.

Jonas gives her a lopsided grin, offering one of the bottles out. She glances over her shoulder, making sure that no one is watching, before she slips it into the inside pocket of her jacket.

"Thank you," she murmurs. "I haven't had a beer since my daughter was born."

Jonas shrugs. "You're on the PTA, right?"

Her eyes widen slightly. "Um. Yes?"

"Cool," Jonas nods once, taking another swig. "My nephew is starting school in September. I want in."

The woman blinks dubiously. "You want to be on the PTA?"

"Fuck yeah," Jonas says, ignoring the odd looks that everyone is giving him. Isak has never felt more confused. "I could plan the shit out of a bake sale."

"I don't doubt your experience with _being_ baked," the woman mutters, eyeing him warily.

Jonas doesn't even flinch. "What's your name?"

"Kari..."

"Kari," Jonas says, resting his chin against his hand. "You sound a little bit jealous."

"Jealous?" Kari repeats, her voice scandalized. "No—"

"If you get me on the PTA," Jonas cuts her off, gesturing toward the hidden beer, "there's more where that came from."

Kari hesitates. "I don't make the decisions, but I could put in a good word for you."

"Do what you have to do," Jonas says vaguely, waving her off. He focuses his gaze elsewhere, effectively dismissing her. After a few awkward moments, Kari retreats.

"What the fuck?" Isak asks as soon as she's walked away. "Since when do you want to be a PTA parent?"

"It's going to look great on my applications," Jonas says, gulping down the last of his beer. He sets the empty bottle by his feet, adding, "How hard can it be?"

"You don't even like children," Isak deadpans.

"I love Felix, though."

Isak goes to retort, but Jonas cuts him off before he can. "You should go and say hello to your boyfriend, he's trying to get your attention."

He glances over his shoulder, and sure enough, Even waves as soon as they make eye contact.

"Isn't your boyfriend over there too?" Isak asks, noticing the boys standing around Even.

Jonas squints in that direction. "Fuck, yeah, that's Mikael. I guess I'm getting laid this afternoon."

"I don't need to know anymore about your sex life than I already do," Isak pulls a disgusted face.

"Like you didn't do the walk of shame the other week when you got back from Even's. You reeked of sex, and you were lim—"

Isak pushes himself up and out of the chair, his face heating up. "Okay! I'm going to go over there before he thinks I'm blowing him off."

"I think I'll come and say hi to Mikael," Jonas says, standing up too.

"You mean you want to see if you can sneak off with him like last time?"

"No," Jonas says, but the look on his face tells a different story. "I want to see how his test went yesterday."

Isak snorts. "Sure."

"I do," Jonas insists. "Getting my dick sucked would be a welcome bonus though."

"Why are you my best friend?" Isak groans, starting to walk.

"Because you love me," Jonas slings an arm over his shoulders. "And I make sure you don't turn yourself into a complete recluse."

Isak shoves him away, but he can't fight the fond smile off of his face.

They're halfway to the boys when a different woman rushes toward them, stopping them in their tracks. For a moment, Isak thinks that they're going to be told off for Jonas's drinking again, but the woman surprises him.

"Are you the one with the beer?" She whispers.

"Uh, yeah?" Jonas says slowly.

"Can I get one?" The woman asks desperately. "Kari said she got one from you, and I could use it. I'm going through a divorce, and things have been so—"

"Are you on the PTA?" Jonas asks, interrupting her.

"I'm Vice President of the PTA," she admits.

Jonas turns to Isak with a smirk, "I'll catch up with you in a few minutes. I have some business to do."

Isak can only shake his head in complete bewilderment as he continues to make his way toward Even. He'll never understand his best friend's ability to draw people in the way that he does.

As he approaches Even and his friends, he's surprised to find that he recognizes more than just Mikael. Elias and Yousef—Sana's brother and boyfriend respectively—are there too. He hasn't seen either of them in a while, but when he was still at Nissen, he'd gotten to know them fairly well.

"Hey," he says once he's within hearing distance, offering the group a smile.

Even wraps an arm around his waist when he's close enough, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Hey. I want you to meet my friends. Boys, this is Isak."

"It's good to see you again, man," Elias says with a kind smile of his own. "I haven't seen you around for a while."

"Felix has kept me pretty busy," Isak says, nodding in the direction of the kids.

Even raises his brows, looking between them. "You two know each other?"

"He's friends with Sana," Elias explains. "He's been to our house a few times."

"Sana loves him," Yousef chimes, "although she'll never admit it. I love her, but you know how she is."

"Small world," Even acknowledges, rubbing Isak's side gently. He seems more than happy to know that at least two of his friends already get along with him. "And you've met Mikael, right?"

"I haven't met him officially," Isak says, "but Jonas talks about him so often that I feel like I have."

Mikael grins unabashedly, offering out his hand. He pulls him in for one of those bro handshakes, patting him on the back. "Jonas and Even are always talking about you, too. You're a popular guy."

"Has everyone met the infamous Isak but me?" Mutta complains. "What the fuck?"

"I haven't met him," Adam says pointedly. "Maybe Even will introduce us if he can stop gawking at him for a few seconds."

Even smiles sheepishly, turning toward his remaining two friends. "Boys, this is Isak—my boyfriend. Isak, the one with the boyband hairstyle is Mutta, and the other one is Adam."

"It's great to meet you," Isak says sincerely, grinning. "We'll all have to chill soon."

"Only if you bring Felix," Yousef says. "I miss that kid."

"I will," Isak nods. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you guys again."

"Guess who is the newest official member of the Grefsen School PTA?" Jonas asks as he comes up to the group. He has a triumphant grin on his face, obvious pride behind his words. "We meet on Tuesdays. I'm in charge of the alcohol."

"You actually convinced a bunch of middle aged women to let you join the PTA?" Isak asks in disbelief.

"I'm very convincing," Jonas winks. "I already have a bunch of ideas for fundraiser ideas."

"Like what?"

"An adult bake sale," Jonas says suggestively, "if you know what I mean."

It takes Isak a few seconds to actually understand what Jonas is implying, but when he realizes, he reaches over and slaps his arm.

"You can't sell weed around kids!"

"Sure I can," Jonas shrugs like it's obvious. "I'll just put little space ship stickers on the bags with the weed brownies."

"Stickers will make kids want to eat them, not the other way around you dipshit."

Jonas hums thoughtfully. "Well, then I'll put them in a separate box or something. I don't know. But it's a genius idea man, you've got to admit."

"It's an awful idea," Isak corrects, "that will probably end up with us getting sued."

Mikael gives him a kiss on the cheek, placing a hand on his lower back. "Well I think it's great. We'll have to celebrate."

A chorus of exaggerated gags follow his words, but Jonas's grin widens impossibly. "After the game?"

Mikael nods, leaning in to whisper something to him. Much to Isak's surprise, Jonas' face breaks out in a blush.

"They're pretty cute," Even leans closer to him, lowering his voice so that only he can hear. "Aren't they?"

Isak tilts his head up. "Not as cute as us, but they're alright, I guess."

Even's lips meet his own in a sweet kiss. "Are you free this evening?" He asks once they've parted.

"Depends. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Maybe," Even hums quietly, tucking a loose curl behind Isak's ear. "I thought I could take you out to dinner. Felix could obviously come too if the boys won't be around."

"You're always doing things for me," Isak says, his next words tumbling out before he can fully think them through. "Maybe you could come over to our place for dinner instead?"

"Yeah?"

Isak clears his throat, knowing that he can't take the offer back now. "I mean, if you want."

"That sounds nice," Even nods.

_He's fucked._

"Great," Isak says, trying to muster up as much enthusiasm as possible. Jonas—obviously eavesdropping—stifles his laughter, his face screwing up to prevent any sound from coming out.

Any response from Even is halted by the sound of the opposing team's captain blowing their whistle. "Shit, I have to go start the game," he says, already starting to walk backwards onto the field. "I'll see you this evening, though?"

"See you this evening," Isak repeats meekly. He already knows that it's going to be a disaster.

-

Isak is a shit cook. In fact, he's quite possibly the shittiest cook in the world. Unless he's making something straight from a mix or he can stick it in the microwave, it's more likely to resemble dog food than an actual meal.

So he still doesn't know why the fuck he thought it would be a good idea to invite Even over dinner.

He's trying to follow a ridiculous recipe for on his phone, but he can't understand the various steps for the life of him. It calls for things like _parsley_ and _fresh garlic,_ things that he's certain they've never had in the kollektiv.

When he stopped at the grocery store on the way back from Felix's game, it took him twenty minutes to decide what type of eggs to buy. He definitely doesn't have the time to go out and pick out the rest of the ingredients that he hadn't even realized he would need.

"You know what, kid?" Isak says to Felix, who is sitting on the counter a few feet away. "I'm not using a recipe. This is going to be my special stir fry."

"Uncle Jonas says to always follow recipes," Felix tells him warily.

Isak sets his phone down, shrugging. "Uncle Jonas doesn't have my cooking skills."

"But you don't have any cooking skills," Felix points out, like it's a fact and not an insult.

"Felix," he warns, giving him a stern look. While there's quite a bite of truth behind the statement, he knows that ignoring the lack of manners will make for more troubles in the long run if he doesn't correct him.

"Sorry," Felix murmurs.

"It's alright," Isak says. "I just hope that Even likes it."

"Is Even your boyfriend?"

"Why are you asking that?" Isak asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"I heard Uncle Mags talking to Uncle Jonas," of course, "and he called you boyfriends."

"How would you feel about it?" Isak asks cautiously, deciding to gauge Felix's reaction. "Would you be upset if I had a boyfriend?"

"I like Even," Felix says thoughtfully, tracing shapes into some flour Isak had spilt on the counter. "He's really nice, and cool, and funny, and—"

"Awesome?" Isak guesses, his lips quirking into a small smile.

"Super awesome," Felix nods seriously. "And he makes you super-duper happy. You get love eyes when you see him."

"Love eyes?" Isak repeats with a surprised laugh. "What do you know about love eyes?"

"I have a boyfriend too," Felix reminds, as if he's fifteen and not five.

Isak steps away from the stove, leaning against the counter beside Felix. He reaches up with his free hand, carefully wiping a bit of flour off of his cheek. "Even is my boyfriend," he finally confirms, "as long as you're okay with that."

"Really?" Felix brightens. "Does that mean Even will be around like Uncle Jonas and Uncle Magnus and Uncle Mahdi?"

"I hope so."

"And," Felix continues eagerly, "will I get to have two pappas like Aksel has two mammas?"

"I don't know about that," Isak clears his throat, his face flushing. "Maybe someday. Hopefully someday."

"Ooo!" Felix giggles. "Issy and Even are gonna get married!"

"I didn't say that," Isak denies. He doesn't need Felix repeating something like that to Even—although their relationship has progressed quickly, they're a long way from marriage discussions. "I said it _could_ happen eventually, not that it's going to."

"Can I be the person who tosses the flowers around?" Felix asks, either not hearing (or choosing not to listen to) Isak.

"I'm not getting married anytime soon," Isak says, turning back toward the food. "But if I ever do, you can be the flower person. Sure."

"I want to be the one who carries the rings too," Felix adds.

"You can't be the ring bearer and the flower person," Isak says, chuckling softly.

"Why not?" Felix crosses his arms.

Isak tries to think of a reasonable excuse, but comes up blank. "Alright," he agrees. "If I ever get married, you can be the ring bearer and the flower person."

Felix cheers, throwing his arms up into the air dramatically. He's clearly been spending too much time with Eskild and Magnus.

"Don't get too excited," Isak says, placing a lid on top of the pan. "I don't have any plans to get married soon."

Really, he's not sure that he would deny a proposal from Even if he asked right now, but Felix doesn't need to know that.

"I think you and Even are gonna get married," Felix says, leaving no room for doubt in his voice. "And—and you'll have chocolate cake!"

"I don't like chocolate cake," Isak reminds.

"I do," Felix says with a mischievous grin.

Isak laughs again, ruffling Felix's hair. "We'll talk about that when if it ever happens, alright? For now, why don't you go and set the table for me."

Felix lets Isak help him back onto his feet, opening up their silverware drawer. He has to stand on the tips of his toes to reach the utensils, but he manages. He's such a good kid, and Isak is infinitely thankful to have him in his life.

-

He's just finished taking the stir fry off of the stove when there's knock on the front door. Assuming that it's Even, he frantically unties the apron around his waist and runs a hand back through his hair to make himself look somewhat presentable.

Isak makes his way to the front door, wiping his hands on his jeans before he opens it up. He has a teasing remark ready, but is completely surprised to find someone who is definitely not Even standing in the doorway.

"Eskild? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see my favorite boy," Eskild hums, stepping around him and inside.

"Well, I appreciate that, but—"

"There he is!" Eskild says as Felix comes rushing down the hallway. He easily lifts him into his arms, kissing his cheek. "My favorite boy in the world."

Isak scowls.

"Relax, baby gay," Eskild rolls his eyes. "You need to learn not to be so jealous. I still love you too."

"I'm not jealous. I'm just wondering why you decided to show up unannounced," Isak mutters, shutting the door behind him.

"You should be grateful. If I didn't adore you so much, I'd have to act professional. You're supposed to have surprise visits from me at least once a month," Eskild says, adjusting Felix on his hip.

"So you suddenly decided to act professional?" Isak asks.

"No," Eskild softens. "I wanted to make sure that you were feeling okay about tomorrow, and I knew that if I sent you a message, you'd come up with an awful excuse."

Right. Tomorrow. Court day.

Amidst the chaos of the afternoon, he almost forgot that he could potentially lose Felix tomorrow. It's ironic, since he hasn't been able to think about much else in the weeks following his twentieth birthday.

He's certain that Eskild can read this on his face, because he promptly sniffs the air, setting Felix back down.

"Do I smell food?" Eskild asks. "Actual, home cooked food?"

Isak sighs. "I'm capable of completing basic domestic tasks, Eskild."

"I had to teach you how to make rice," Eskild says.

"The box was written in English," Isak defends. "It's not my fault Magnus is shit at doing the shopping."

"Why did you cook today?" Eskild asks, starting down the hallway before Isak can stop him. "You never cook."

"I wanted to change things up," Isak says quickly.

He's not going to tell Eskild about his date. If he does, Eskild will ask questions and try to stick around to meet Even—neither of which Isak wants to deal with. It'll be easier to try and get him out of the kollektiv as quickly as possible.

Eskild lets out a small _humph,_ grabbing a bowl out from the cupboard.

"What are you doing?" Isak asks, his eyes widening.

"Trying your stir fry," Eskild shrugs, serving himself some. "I can't have my godson eating awful food."

"He's not officially your godson," Isak says, sighing. He watches Eskild pile his food up, glimpsing anxiously at the clock every few seconds. "Can you at least take it to-go?'

Eskild's face turns wounded. "Are you trying to kick me out of your home?"

"I—" Isak sticks his tongue in his cheek. "No. Of course not."

Eskild narrows his eyes. "You are. Why? What have I inter... oh my god. You have a date. I'm interrupting a date!"

"Eskild!"

"That's why you're wearing that button down I made you buy ages ago! Oh my god, my baby gay has a love life!"

"It's not a date," Isak quickly denies, but falters immediately. "Alright, it's kind of a date, but you don't need to make a big deal out of it. I'm a grown man."

"You're a small bean," Eskild corrects. "I don't think you've ever been in a serious relationship before this one."

"I didn't say that I'm in one now?"

"I can see it in your eyes," Eskild says, "and if you weren't serious about him, you wouldn't have cooked for him."

"I know that you care about me—"

"Wait a minute," Eskild's eyes widen with excitement as he completely disregards the fact that Isak is talking. "This means that you have a sex life too!"

Isak's hands fly up to cover his ears. He's grateful that somewhere during this conversation, Felix wandered off into the living room. "We aren't talking about this!"

Fortunately, a knock on the door ensures that they won't be able to talk about the subject anymore. Unfortunately, that knock means that Even has arrived while Eskild is still very much present. He can't tell whether fate is on his side or being cruel today.

Isak reluctantly maneuvers around Eskild, heading down the hallway to the front door. He can hear Eskild scramble behind him, no doubt poking his head out of the doorway to watch the entire scene.

"Hi," he greets Even stiffly.

"Hi," Even's brows furrow. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Isak lets out a small breath. "We just have an unexpected guest joining our date."

"Felix? I wouldn't say that's unexpected—"

"Not the child," Eskild says, stepping fully out into the hallway. "Moi."

Isak sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Even, this is Eskild. Eskild, this is Even."

"Even?" Eskild's lips form a knowing smirk.

"Eskild?" Even mimics with a similar expression, laughing softly as he enters the apartment. "Isak has told me all about you."

Eskild glances toward Isak, setting his bowl down. "All good things, I hope."

"Oh, only that you're his gur—"

"We should eat!" Isak interrupts. "The stir fry won't be any good once it's cold."

"But Isak, your boyfriend was just about to tell me that you admit to seeing me as a guru," Eskild teases. "I'd love to hear all about how much you admire me."

"I don't know what he's talking about. One of the kids must have kicked a football at his head today, he's clearly delirious," Isak says grumpily.

"You love me," Eskild says knowingly, picking up his bowl as soon as they enter the kitchen.

"No comment," Isak starts to serve both him and Even some food, rolling his eyes.

-

The rest of the evening passes surprisingly smoothly. While Eskild does ask more questions than Isak would have liked, the older man seems to sense how much this means to him, and is respectful of that.

Even and Eskild get along well, and that makes Isak happier than he'll ever admit. They've both come to be two of the most important people in his life, and it's nice to know that they like one another too.

When it gets to be around 20:00, Isak decides it's time for a Felix to head to bed. It's a bit earlier from normal, but he wants to have some time with just Eskild and Even to hopefully talk about tomorrow. He gently tells the boy that it's bedtime, and Felix quickly leans over on the couch to hug Even.

"I want Even to tuck me in!" Felix says eagerly, looking at Isak with wide, hopeful eyes. "Can he?"

"I don't know," Isak says warily, glancing toward Even. He doesn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"It's fine," Even stands up, lifting Felix up with him. He sends Isak a smile, "I've had plenty of practice with my nieces."

Thank you, Isak mouths when Felix looks toward Eskild to say goodnight. Even never fails to impress him, and he really doesn't know how he got to be this lucky.

Even winks at him, disappearing toward Felix's room a few moments later.

When they're out of sight, Eskild turns to him. His smile drops into a more serious expression, his brows creased with concern. "Are you holding up okay? About tomorrow, I mean."

"I'm nervous," Isak admits, running a hand back through his hair. "What if they don't think I'm fit enough to be a parent?"

"You've done everything right," Eskild says calmly. "There's no reason that your application should be denied."

"What about the Bergen assholes?"

"You don't have to worry about them," Eskild promises. "I made sure your police report went through, and I gave that to the judge. They don't have a chance of getting him, which only helps your case."

"I just don't want things to go wrong," Isak says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I can't imagine him not being a part of my life anymore."

"I don't know what the outcome will be," Eskild reaches forward, placing a hand on either of his shoulders. "But I promise you that I will do everything I can to have him stay here with you."

"What if that's not enough?" Isak finally asks the question that's been weighing on him the most.

"You can't think that way," Eskild murmurs.

"I've been taking care of him for most of his life now. If he gets taken away—"

"We need to stay positive. For Felix's sake."

Isak shuts his eyes. He knows that Eskild is right, but it's too easy to focus on the ways in which everything could go wrong.

"Do you remember what you told me the night we first met?" Eskild asks.

"I probably told you to fuck off," Isak mumbles.

Eskild waits until Isak looks up, and makes sure to catch his gaze. "You told me that you needed him, and that he needed you."

Isak's throat tightens.

"Anyone who sees what you've done for him, or who speaks to you for longer than ten seconds, knows how much you love that kid. It'd be ridiculous for them to take him from you," Eskild says.

"Thanks, Eskild," Isak whispers.

Eskild pulls him in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. Isak returns it, only hoping that he's right.

-

"Issy?"

Isak forces his eyes open, sparing a glance toward the clock. "Felix?" He asks groggily. "What are you doing up? It's one in the morning."

"I can't sleep," Felix whispers.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Isak pulls the covers aside, gesturing for Felix to come up.

Felix silently nods, climbing up onto the bed. He comfortably settles himself down beside Isak, curling into his side.

Isak situated the duvet on top of them again, wrapping an arm around Felix. "Do you want to tell me about it? It might help."

"I was all alone," Felix sniffs. "I wanted you, but—but you didn't come."

Isak's heart shatters.

"Listen to me," Isak says, looking down and into his eyes. "I will never, ever leave you alone. I'll always be here for you, okay? Always."

"Okay," Felix buries his face into Isak's chest, his hands fisting up in the fabric of Isak's shirt.

"We've made it this far, kid," Isak murmurs, smoothing a hand down his back.

"I love you," Felix says, the words muffled by Isak's shirt. Nonetheless, they manage to warm Isak's heart in a way he never thought possible.

"I love you too, Felix. More than you'll ever know."

-

The courtroom is hot.

Isak's palms are coated in sweat, and he tries to discreetly wipe them on his slacks. Eskild stands beside him, a reminder that he's not alone, but even that does nothing to help his nerves.

He's staring at the judge—the man who is going to dictate the rest of his life. He could lose Felix in a matter of a moments, and he's completely helpless.

The judge stands, whacking his gavel to gain the rooms attention. "I have come to my decision..."

-

Isak finds Even pacing in the hall outside of the courtroom.

"Well?" Even asks anxiously, halting midstep. "What happened?"

Isak doesn't respond. Instead her steps forward, loops his arms around Even's neck, and presses a long kiss to his lips. He can hear Felix giggling from somewhere behind him, but he pays it no mind.

Even kisses him back with ease, settling his hands on his hips to steady them. He parts after a few moments—mindful that they're still in a courthouse—and rests their foreheads together.

"It went well, then?" Even guesses, grinning.

"It went perfect," Isak says with a laugh. "He's mine. Fuck. He's mine. I officially adopted him."

"That's amazing," Even says earnestly, giving his hips a gentle squeeze. "I'm really happy for you, baby."

"Thank you," Isak pecks his lips again, filled with utter happiness.

"Issy!" Felix rushes over, squeezing his way in between their legs. "You said we could go get ice cream if I sat and was good!"

"I did, didn't I?" Isak steps back, ruffling his hair. "Can you at least say hello to Even first?"

Felix peeks up at Even, giving him a sheepish smile. "Hi Even."

"Hey bud," Even hums. "Would you mind if I joined you guys? Ice cream is my favorite treat."

Felix's face lights up. "Yeah! And then you can come home and watch movies with us like before!"

Isak places a hand on his back. "Even might be busy—"

"I'm not," Even assures, meeting Isak's eyes. "As long as you're okay with it, I'd love to spend the rest of the day with you guys."

And, really, who decided it was fair to make a man this fucking perfect?

"Are you sure?" Isak asks, not wanting Even to feel pressured. He knows first-hand how convincing Felix's puppy dog eyes can be.

"Isak," Even sighs playfully. "How many times do I have to tell you that I really enjoy spending time with both of you?"

"Did I hear someone mention ice cream?" Magnus interrupts.

Even chuckles, giving Magnus an amused expression. "Do you want to come along?"

"Fuck yeah," Magnus grins. "We need to celebrate!"

In spite of his friends crashing an almost-date with Even, Isak really can't be mad. He wouldn't have made it through the past two years without them, and he's certain he'll never be able to repay them for that.

"Pappa!" Felix tugs at his hand, trying to pull him forward. "Can we go now? Please?"

"Sure thing, kid," Isak says, squeezing his hand gently to calm him down. "Let's go."

He leaves the courthouse with Felix in his arms, Even by his side, and the boys only a few steps behind him—his very own found family. Life isn't always easy, but with them supporting him every step of the way, there's never a lack of love.

 


	11. Bonus Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... surprise? this was originally going to be posted as one shot/individual part of this verse, but after reading it over i decided it was more fitting as an epilogue of sorts. it’s set a few months after the court room scene, and is basically just a bunch of christmas fluff lol.
> 
> happy holidays to those celebrating!! i hope you all enjoy.

Isak has never really believed in the whole _Christmas is the Most Wonderful Time of the Year_ sentiment.

It’s always fucking freezing, for one thing. He has to bundle up in too many layers just to survive a quick walk to the car. Then there’s the annoying music that’s always playing. Always. He turns on the radio and Christmas songs are playing. He walks into the grocery store and Christmas songs are playing. He walks down the street, and there’s almost certainly going to be a group of obnoxious carolers singing—what else—Christmas songs at the top of their lungs.

And, alright. He knows that his resentment toward the holiday probably has something to do with a bit of his childhood trauma. His holiday memories are all awful, tainted by adults screaming and disappointment—definitely nothing like the picturesque scenes from the movies, or the memories his friends claimed to have with their families.

Isak isn't a Scrooge by any means, but he would have been happy to glaze over Christmas without making a whole ordeal out of it like everyone else.

That is, until Felix came into the picture. His ~~nephew~~ son is like most kids in his awe for all things Christmas. He’s captivated by the the decorations, the magic, Santa, and most importantly: the presents.

The thing is, Isak loves that kid infinitely. He would do anything for him. So even though he doesn't necessarily exemplify holiday spirit, he’s determined to make this Felix’s best Christmas ever.

Which is how he’s found himself in his current position—seated semi-balanced on Jonas’s shoulders, with a jumbled string of Christmas lights in his hand.

It’s his first time hanging Christmas lights, and he’s doing a pretty awful job of it so far. He’s just trying to put them around the windows to make their apartment a bit more festive since they don't have a yard or actual house to decorate, but he hadn't anticipated it to be this hard.

Isak is trying to secure them when Jonas sways again. He frantically grabs onto the curtain rod to keep himself from tumbling to the ground. “Stop moving so much!”

Jonas makes an irritated noise. “Bro, you're fucking heavy! Just hang the damn things!”

Isak swats the top of Jonas’s head with his free hand. “I’m trying, but I can't do anything if you're moving around!”

Jonas grumbles something under his breath, his grip on Isak’s legs tightening. He manages to steady himself, and sends an annoyed look up a his best friend. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Isak reaches up, hanging another strand of lights. “One more and we should be good to go.”

“Fuck you,” Jonas groans.

“You should blame Magnus, he’s the one who broke the stepstool.”

“I’m blaming you. You have a fucking giant boyfriend, and I’m the one who’s stuck with the job of being a human ladder.”

“Even is out with Felix,” Isak fastens the last string of lights. “I told you this already. I want Felix to be surprised when everything is all Christmas-y when he gets home.”

He’s already gotten their Christmas tree set up in the living room, with ornaments waiting in a bin for decorating in the evening. There’s a wreath on their front door, a few nutcrackers at various locations in the kollektiv, and lights all around their living room. It’s far from perfect decorating, but he's proud of himself nonetheless.

“Next year,” Jonas says grumpily, “I’m taking Felix out instead.”

“Stop whining and help me get down now,” Isak says with a small laugh. “Jesus, you're worse than Felix sometimes.”

“I could let you fall, you know.”

“You wouldn't.”

“Bet,” Jonas says, purposefully letting him slip back on his shoulders.

Isak yelps, frantically grabbing onto the top of his head. “Fuck!”

“Ouch! You're pulling my hair!” Jonas stumbles, only causing Isak to tighten his grip more. “Isak!”

“Stop moving and I won't have to pull your hair!” Isak snaps back, “Just let me down!”

“Pappa? Uncle Jonas? What are you doing?”

Both of them freeze, and Jonas slowly turns them toward the source of the little voice.

Felix stands in the doorway of the living room, with Even right behind him. While Felix looks absolutely confused, Even seems to be on the brink of bursting out into laughter.

“We’re, uh—” Isak frantically tries to think of something, but comes up blank.

“Wrestling!” Jonas finishes, squatting down enough that Isak can safely slide off his shoulders. “And I won.”

“Oh,” Felix nods in understanding. “Pappa and Even do that a lot when they're in bed. Sometimes they don't even wear shirts!”

“Felix!” Isak admonishes, his cheeks going red. He thought that Felix would have forgotten about the time (or three) he’d walked into the bedroom and found them in a rather compromising position. Apparently, he could now only hope he’d forget before he got old enough to know they weren't actually wrestling.

“What?” Felix asks innocently.

“Hey Felix,” Even places his hands on Felix’s shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Did you notice the Christmas fairies came for a visit? Look at all the lights!”

Felix—immediately distracted—looks around, his eyes going huge as he takes in all of the decorations. “Woah!”

Isak purposely bumps into Jonas as he walks over to Felix, scooping him up into his arms. It takes substantially more strength than it used to, but he tries to ignore that fact as he settles him on his hip. “Do you like it?”

“It’s so cool!” Felix gushes.

Isak smiles triumphantly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, since we have a tree now, maybe we can decorate it tonight? We can even put those ornaments you made at school on.”

“Really?” Felix gasps giddily. “Yes please, pappa!”

Christmas season is off to a great start.

-

In retrospect, he really should have let Even handle the _making Christmas cookies_ part of the holiday season.

Isak is a shit baker, and he knows he’s a shit baker, but he had somehow let Josefine Larsen convince him that her family’s sugar cookie recipe was “super easy and delicious!”

Felix had looked so excited when he overheard him getting the recipe, too. He’d spent the entire car ride home rambling on about how fun it would be to cut out shapes and decorate cookies, just like in the movies. And who was Isak to crush his excitement?

That Friday night, while the boys were out at some party and Even was finishing up a project for one of his classes, he strapped on his apron and began to make some cookies.

It was going better than he expected, but not great. There were some mysterious lumps in the dough, and there was a 50/50 chance he had accidentally used salt instead of sugar, but at the very least Felix was enjoying himself.

At the young boy’s request, they were listening to Christmas music, with Felix alternating between actually helping with the baking and dancing around the kitchen. Isak had tried to insist he stay focused at first, but eventually surrendered to let him have his fun.

After finishing a particularly wild dance session to Santa Claus is Coming to Town, Felix approaches the counter again. He rocks up onto the tips of his toes to peek over the counter, watching Isak roll out the dough.

Abruptly, he asks, “How is Santa going to find us if we don't have a chimney?”

“He’ll use the front door,” Isak says. It’s the first thing that pops into his head, and he’s more proud of the easy lie than he should be.

“Oh,” Felix pauses. “But what if it's locked?”

Isak sighs. He really should have seen that one coming. “Santa has a magic key that opens any door in the world.”

“That’s weird,” Felix says, sounding thoughtful. “I want to be Santa when I grow up.”

“I thought you wanted to be a football player?” Isak wipes the residual flour on his hands off with his apron.

“Santa only works on Christmas,” Felix says. The _duh_ behind it is obvious. “I can be a football player and Santa.”

“You know what? As long as you give me good presents when you're Santa, that’s fine,” Isak laughs.

“I’ll bring you the best presents ever,” Felix says seriously, “even if you're super naughty.”

“Thanks, kid.”

Felix reaches out, poking a finger into the dough. He immediately makes a face. “This doesn't look yummy.”

“No,” Isak has to agree. He’d assumed that rolling out the dough would help to soften and smooth it, but it had been futile. “I think I messed it up pretty badly.”

“It’s okay,” Felix says earnestly, “I still love you the most.”

Has Isak mentioned how much he fucking loves his kid?

A knock on the front door prevents Isak from really reacting to Felix’s sweetness. Before he can stop him, the five-year-old is rushing out of the room and down the hall.

“Felix!” Isak quickly follows. “Don’t open the door without me!”

Obediently—albeit with an obvious pout on his face—Felix waits. He’s bouncing in place with a hand on the handle, but he doesn't dare open the door until Isak gives him the approving nod.

“Even!” Felix squeals, rushing forward. He wraps his arms around Even’s legs, beaming up at the man.

“Hey, bud,” Even chuckles. “I heard you were planning on decorating some cookies and I wanted to stop by.”

Isak raises a brow at him. “What happened to your project?”

“I finished it,” Even says with a shrug. “Besides, spending time with you two is way more important to me.”

“I’m not sure your grades would agree with that, but,” Isak tries to keep the fond smile off his face, shutting the door behind him and Felix once they step inside.

“I didn't want to miss out on all the fun,” Even meets Isak’s eyes. “This is our first Christmas together, it should be special.”

Isak’s heart leaps into his throat.

 _Our first Christmas together._ Even says it like he believes that they're going to celebrate more Christmases together, which means he sees their relationship being a long-term thing. And it’s not as if Isak didn't already know their relationship was more than casual, but it’s different to hear Even admit—or at least imply—that he’s thinking about their future.

“I—” he starts. He wants to say something smart back, but his mouth refuses to form any words. They’ve been together for months, yet Isak is still a blubbering mess around Even at times.

“Issy messed up the cookies,” Felix says solemnly, before Isak can further embarrass himself. “They look like a monster.”

“Felix,” Isak flushes. “Why don't you go and pick out what shapes you want the cookies to be in? We’ll come in a second.”

“Okay!” Felix beams, rushing down the hall and disappearing into the kitchen.

Isak turns sheepishly to Even once he’s gone, clearing his throat. “They’ll be fine once they bake,” he defends, but even as he says it, he doesn't believe it. “The dough is just… textured. Texture is good, that’s what those TV chef judges always say.”

“Well if the cookies don't turn out, I’ve got us covered,” Even grins, holding up a plastic bag that Isak hadn't even realized he had with him. He reaches inside, pulling out a container of pre-made gingerbread men.

It’s official. Isak is living in some sort of alternate universe where all of his dreams come true. Even is a regular Prince Charming, making Isak fall more and more in love with him every day.

“You're fucking perfect, you know that?” He doesn't mean to say the words out loud, but his mouth works ahead of his brain.

Even laughs, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I don't know about perfect, but thank you anyways. Now, let’s go see if we can salvage your cookies.”

(They can’t. But luckily the evening is saved because of Even’s back-up gingerbread men, and Isak’s heart swells with adoration.)

-

“Wrapping paper is fucking pointless,” Isak tosses another empty roll off to the side, letting out an annoyed groan. “Seriously. Who decided that presents should be wrapped? He’s only going to tear all of the paper apart in a few hours.”

Even smiles in endearment, tossing one of the bows toward him. “It’s exciting to open presents, it wouldn't be as fun if you just saw what you were going to get. Didn't you enjoy that when you were younger?”

Isak pauses, pressing his lips together. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Even grabs another present—a little remote control car that Magnus insisted on getting Felix—and starts to wrap it. “My sisters and I loved Christmas morning. Every year we would wake our parents up at the crack of dawn, and my dad would make us a big breakfast while we opened up our presents.”

“That does sound nice,” Isak agrees.

“Didn't you have any traditions growing up?”

Isak looks up toward Even, subtlety raising a brow. “I’ve told you how fucked up my family is. We weren't functional on any of the other 364 days of the year, let alone Christmas. Our only tradition was the adults yelling at each other until one of them finally got too annoyed and stormed out.”

“You're telling me that you don't have any nice memories from Christmas?” Even asks in disbelief. “Not a single one?”

“This Christmas season has been pretty good,” Isak offers, giving him a slight smile.

Even smiles sadly. “I’m glad,” he says softly, reaching for his hand. “I just wish that you had other good ones, too.”

“You don't have to feel bad,” Isak flushes. “It doesn't bother me. I’m a big boy now. But it has made me want to give Felix a really great Christmas. I want him to have all sorts of happy memories, you know? To compensate for the whole dead-mamma thing.”

“So you think that buying him presents will make up for Lea not being around?”

“No,” Isak sighs, reaching for a fresh roll of wrapping paper. “But I think it's a decent start.”

“You’re a good dad, Isak,” Even says softly.

Isak’s gaze flicks up to meet his. “I don’t know about that, but I’m trying my best.”

-

They stay up together wrapping presents until an ungodly hour of the morning, and Isak can’t help but think that he could get used to this sort of tradition.

-

“It’s Christmas!”

Isak’s bed jostles with the force of a hyper small child jumping onto it.

“Pappa, Even, wake up! Santa came!” Felix bounces near their feet, even though Isak has told him countless times it’s unsafe. “We have to open presents! Come on!”

Isak yawns, reaching for his phone to check the time. He’s not surprised to find that it’s only 7:00. “Why don't you go and wake up your uncles?” He prompts. “Then we can all go downstairs and open presents together.”

“Okay!” Felix slides down onto his butt, scrambling off the bed.

“Merry Christmas,” Even calls after him with a laugh. His voice is still raspy with sleep, and it’s a conscious effort on Isak’s part not to let it go straight to his South Pole. He turns to Isak, smirk stretching across his face. “Merry Christmas to you too, baby.”

“Mmm,” Isak leans forward, choosing to ignore the fact that they've both got morning breath, and presses a kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas.”

Even gives Isak’s cheek a gentle tap, pulling away after only a moment. “We should get up. I need to get into the suit before he comes running back in here.”

“Suit?” Isak’s brows furrow. “You wear a suit to open presents?”

“Not an actual suit,” Even smirks, sitting up. “It’s a Santa suit.”

“No fucking way.”

“It’s in the closet. I’m surprised you didn't find it last night,” Even laughs. “I thought it would be a cute surprise for Felix, even if he knows I’m not the real Santa.”

Isak gives him a dubious look. “Why do you even have a Santa suit?”

“I did this a few years back for my nieces,” Even gets out of bed, making his way over to the closet. “Granted, my family pretty much forced me into it then, but…”

“You're such a dork,” Isak says fondly, shaking his head. “I’m kind of excited for this now, honestly. I’ve always wondered what you would look like with a beard.”

“Well, it's your lucky day, then,” Even tugs on suit and fake beard, turning around a minute later. “Do I look good?”

“Mmm,” Isak stands up, walking toward him. He loops his arms around his neck when he’s close enough, leaning in. “You look absolutely fucking hot.”

He presses his lips to Even’s, kissing him slow and sensual. Even steadies them with his hands on Isak’s hips, though he doesn't dare pull back.

“Pappa? _Santa?_ ”

Isak quickly pulls away from Even, stumbling back a few steps out of instinct. He turns toward Felix with wide eyes, and finds him standing in the doorway with Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi all crowded behind him.

“I—we were—”

“You were kissing!” Felix giggles. “You were kissing Santa!”

Isak’s skin burns to the tips of his ears. “I was—that’s not—“

“Ho Ho Ho!” Even chuckles in an awful imitation of Santa, looking all too amused at Isak’s mortification. “I heard you were a good boy this year, Felix.”

“Why do you sound like Even?” Felix asks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Santa is supposed to be back at the North Pole.”

Even smiles sheepishly, carefully tugging the fake beard down. “You’re too smart! I am Even, but Santa leant me his suit to surprise you this morning.”

Felix’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ shape, rocking back onto his heels. “Can we go open presents now? Please?”

Even shrugs off the jacket portion of the suit and steps out of the pants, revealing a pair of ugly Christmas pajamas that Felix had picked out for him. He glances toward Isak for approval, and upon getting a subtle nod from him, says,  “Sure thing. Lead the way.”

Felix eagerly takes hold of Even’s hand, practically dragging him out of the room. Isak moves to follow, but can’t help getting distracted by the boys snickering.

“Oh, fuck off,” he grumbles.

“I saw pappa kissing Santa Claus,” Jonas sings, looping his arm around Isak’s shoulders.

“Underneath the mistletoe last night!” Magnus and Mahdi belt out obnoxiously.

“You’re all the worst, and I hate you,” Isak declares, slipping out of Jonas’ grip. He rushes ahead of them, leaving them still singing behind him.

-

Felix spends nearly an hour ripping open his presents, making sure to say thank you to Santa each time. He gets all sorts of toys (courtesy of not only the boys, but their parents too) and is especially thrilled by the skateboard from Jonas, and camera from Even.

Isak is lounging on the couch, occasionally snapping pictures as they finally near the end of the pile. He’s getting ready to tell Felix they need to clean up all of the wrapping paper when he notices Magnus carrying in an unfamiliar box. The box is not wrapped, and he swears he hears it make a noise when it’s set down.

He clears his throat, glancing toward his friends. “Boys? I don’t recognize that present.”

“Maybe it’s from Santa?” Jonas shrugs, smirking.

Isak glares.

“Okay, okay. We might have done something.”

“And by we,” Mahdi points to Jonas and Magnus, “he means they did something.”

Isak’s gaze snaps toward Even.

“Don’t look at me,” Even raises his hands innocently. “I didn’t have anything to do with whatever this is.”

“Can I open it?” Felix bounces up and down in place. “Can I? Pretty please?”

“Go ahead,” Jonas says before Isak can protest. “But be careful.”

Felix doesn’t hesitate in whipping the box open, letting out a loud gasp at what he finds inside. He reaches in, and after a moment of fumbling, pulls out a small gray kitten.

“That’s a kitten,” Isak says dumbly, watching Felix hug the poor thing to his chest. “Why is there a kitten in our living room?”

“It’s not just any kitten,” Magnus says, smiling proudly. “It’s Felix’s new kitten.”

“You got him an animal?” Isak is torn between fury and exasperation. “ _Serr?_ Tell me that this is a fucking joke.”

“We wanted to get him a puppy first, but our landlord is an asshole,” Jonas shrugs. “Every kid deserves to have a pet growing up.”

“I can barely take care of Felix, and you expect me to take care of a kitten now?”

“Have some faith in us, man. We’ll help out,” Magnus assures.

“By playing with it,” Isak mutters. Admittedly though, he can’t help but watch Felix with a smile as he coos happily over the tiny thing.

“I’ll help too,” Even promises.

“Uncle Jonas,” Felix breaks in,“my tummy is hungry!”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to change that,” Jonas stands up. “Bring your kitten into the kitchen and I’ll start on breakfast.”

Felix nods quickly, eagerly following Jonas into the kitchen. Magnus and Mahdi quickly follow them, leaving Isak and Even on their own.

“Who’s going to help with the clean up, then?” Isak gestures around the room, toward the ridiculous amount of wrapping paper scattered around the room. They really should have cleaned up as they went along, but he had been too busy trying to stay awake to think of it.

“I’ll help you,” Even pushes himself up off the couch, offering his hands to Isak.

Isak takes his hands, letting him help in pulling him up onto his feet. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

Even’s lips tilt upward. He settles his hands on Isak’s hips, ducking down for a kiss.

-

While the boys and Felix make breakfast, Isak and Even get to work on tidying up the living room. Isak would complain about the unfair arrangement, but he currently has some alone time with Even, so he can’t be too upset.

“I’d call Christmas morning a success so far,” Even says, tossing another ball of wrapping paper into a garbage bag. “Hopefully Jonas doesn’t burn the pancakes like he did a few weeks ago.”

“I’m more worried about Felix accidentally crushing that kitten to death,” Isak admits with a sigh.

“If the kitten gets held too tight, it’ll let Felix know. Most likely using its claws,” Even chuckles. “I’ve had Baz Purrman since he was a kitten, and my nieces definitely had their moments with him before he got bigger.”

Isak nods slowly. He tries to sound casual when he asks, “Is he good with other cats?”

“Baz? He’s great with other cats,” Even hums quietly. “Why?”

Isak reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, giving him a timid smile. “Ah. No reason. But do you want to open your Christmas present now?”

Even raises his brows. “Alright?”

Isak exhales, moving toward the tree. He pulls out a small present from near the back, offering it out to him.

“You don’t have to look so nervous,” Even smiles soothingly. “I’ll love anything you give me.”

Isak nods once again, not trusting himself to speak. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, watching him expectantly.

Even carefully opens up the box. Inside rests a small silver key. “You got me a key?”

“Not just a key,” Isak clears his throat. “It’s a key to the kollektiv. I thought maybe you’d want to start spending more time here. Or maybe… maybe even live here.”

Even flips the key over in his palm. “You want me to move in with you?”

“Yes,” Isak breathes, sounding more eager than he intends. Quickly, he adds, “if you want to. I talked it over with the boys, and they’re all chill with it. Felix is too, obviously. I know it’s soon—”

“It’s sooner than some people might feel comfortable with it,” Even agrees, a smile working its way into his face. “I love you, though. And you love me. I don’t think there should be time limits on love.”

Isak’s breath hitches.

“I’d love to move in with you,” Even leans over, gently brushing his lips over Isak’s. “Thank you for trusting me enough to offer that.”

“I don’t know that you’ll be thanking me once you hear Magnus singing in the shower,” Isak says with a playful grin, the tension instantly melting from his shoulders.

“We’ll just have to take it as a challenge, hmm? Who can make more noise?” Even winks.

Isak tosses another discarded ball of wrapping paper at him.

“Pappa! Even!” Felix comes rushing into the room, the fluffy kitten still curled up in his arms. “I picked his name! I picked my kitten’s name!”

“Really? What is it?” Isak asks.

Felix grins proudly. “Elsa.”

“Elsa?” Isak splutters. _Fucking Frozen._ “You want to name him Elsa? Really?”

Even poorly conceals his laughter with a hand over his mouth.

“Elsa is the coolest,” Felix says pointedly. “I want him to have ice powers like her!”

Isak sighs. “He’s not going to have ice powers just because you give him that name, kid.”

“Why don’t you think about some other names? Spot? Fluffy? Whiskers?” Even offers.

“We are not giving that cat some awful, generic name,” Isak grumbles.

“Shadow? Ash?” Even steps closer to Felix, sliding his brand new apartment key into his pocket. He fondly scratches under the cat’s neck.

“Sven!” Felix decides after a moment. “Like the reindeer!”

“I should have burned that DVD after the first watch,” Isak mutters to himself. He knows that one way or another, there’s going to be a _Frozen_ reference.

“Sven is a perfect name,” Even ruffles Felix’s hair. As if on cue, the kitten—Sven—lets out a soft _meow._ “See? He likes it too.”

“I guess it does kind of suit him,” Isak relents. Besides, as long as Felix is happy, that’s all he really cares about. “We’re going to have two cats named Sven and Baz Purrman. We’re nothing if not a unique family.”

“Family?” Even’s gaze flicks up.

Isak blanches. “Fuck—I shouldn’t have said that. I probably sound like a fucking creep now. You’re over here a lot, is all, and you’re moving in now, so you’ll be living with us—”

“Even is going to live with us?” Felix perks up. “Really? Can he sleep in my room? Can we get bunk beds?”

“Felix,” Isak admonishes. He looks back to Even apologetically. “I know I shouldn’t have said anything yet, I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t mind, Isak,” Even says calmly. He looks mostly unbothered, and maybe a little flattered. “I hope you know by now that I intend to be in this with you for the long run. I’m glad you’re thinking of me like family.”

“I don’t want to scare you off by getting ahead of myself,” Isak admits quietly.

Even shakes his head, stepping back toward Isak. He brings one hand up to cup his cheek, waiting until Isak meets his eyes. “You won’t scare me off. You can’t. I’m in love with you. I love Felix. Your friends are some of the best people I’ve ever met. Okay?”

Isak nods, swallowing the emotion building at the back of his throat. “I’m in love with you too.”

“And Felix,” Even adds, glancing over his shoulder. “I don’t know about getting bunk beds, but when I’m all moved in, we’ll build plenty of pillow forts. How does that sound?”

“Awesome,” Felix breathes.

“Can I get in on those pillow forts, too?”

All three of their heads whip toward the doorway where Magnus has apparently been standing.

“Were you spying on us?” Isak asks incredulously.

“Not spying,” Magnus denies. “The pancakes are done, and I was sent to tell you. It’s not my fault you decided to have a cute family moment.”

“Pancakes!” Felix cheers, running out of the room and down the hall.

“Don’t run inside,” Isak calls after him, but he knows that it’s pointless.

“I’ll leave you two alone to finish,” Magnus waves his hand between them, “this.”

“Thanks, Mags,” Isak says dryly. He waits until he’s rounded the corner before turning back properly toward Even. “Are you still sure about moving in?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Even says confidently, looping his arms around Isak’s waist. He pulls him closer, leaning closer until their foreheads gently press together. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Isak murmurs, rubbing their noses together sweetly. “Merry Christmas, Even.”

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Even whispers. He pecks his lips before adding, “I can’t wait to celebrate the rest of them with you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated :)


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